


For a night is enough for me

by Baby_Fangirl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Mild Language, Non-Graphic Violence, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-07-21 19:36:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7401079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baby_Fangirl/pseuds/Baby_Fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern Verse<br/>Renly is a matchmaker... in training, and puts together two delightful ladies.<br/>Stark and Lannister, two very differing families, can one date start a chain of events and a bond to connect them?<br/>When Cersei warms to Catelyn, the two are happier than they thought possible, but happiness doesn't count for everything, happiness does not stop what happens in Westeros. Happiness is what happens when Catelyn Stark loves Cersei Lannister...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The set-up and the Toaster

“I am not gay!” Cersei Lannister concluded in absolute exclamation, huffing and slamming her papers down on the desk in front of her. A strand of fine golden hair fell in front of her emerald eyes, swaying back and forth with each heavy breath falling past her rendered lips. After a moment of silence, the Lioness reclined back in her office chair emitting a strong sense of finality to the conversation, but Renly didn’t notice. He shuffled his chair closer insistently, a determined smile tingling on his lips.

The Lannister wore perfect tight fitting attire, the black trousers hugged her calves down to her ankles, a skinny white blouse and a thin peach scarf draped around her neck. Her golden tresses tied back effortlessly, giving her an overall image of the hottest boss the world had to offer.

“Cersei, you’re like a sister to me... or more like a cousin twice-removed actually,” he corrected tentatively and thoughtfully before hurrying to continue, “And, I promised I would find you a date,” The Baratheon brother pointed out earnestly. “There’s a whole world out there!”

The woman clicked her pen and brought her hands to her face, exhaling deeply, attempting to regain her patience and faith in humanity. The latter was proving more difficult. “There’s a whole world of idiots and relatives out there!” She snapped back, leaning forward again to rest her elbows on the desk. “And Cousin Lancel comes under ‘both’ headings! Plus, he's a jerk,” the man looked as if he was processing the information for the very first time.

“Hey! I haven’t tried to set you up with your cousin in over four weeks!” he muttered defensively, loosening the checked blue tie. “Come on CL, she's a lovely person, you'll like her. Just... just one date and I won’t set you up with a woman again.” Renly pleaded, tapping his fingers nervously on his knees as he awaited her reaction, he was hoping that the fire extinguisher was far enough away from her reach, he did not want to encounter that again... Renly glanced around her office nervously, two of the walls looked out over the city, the glass stretched from the floor to the ceiling, the other wall had a pin board up with documents and post-it notes littering most of the space, and a calendar turned on November counting down the days till her next holiday. The fourth wall was also glass but led on to her secretary and the waiting area. The room was void of many living organisms save for the fern in the corner, and of Course Ms Lannister herself. “What are you thinking?” he asked gingerly, wanting to know what was spinning through the Lion’s brain.

“I’m trying to imagine you with a personality,” Cersei declared before sighing and removing her elegant reading glasses, swearing to herself that this would be the last time she was coaxed into a blind date by Renly goddamn Baratheon. “Alright, fine,” she pretended not to hear the happy squeak come from the grown man and fixed him with a cruel glare. “But if this goes bad, I will fire you,” but there was no stopping the over excited man, he was like a stag on a rampage, already answers came spilling from his lips.

“I know! I know! You can slap my face and set fire to my feet while you kick my sorry gay arse!” he accepted before standing up delighted. “But you'll like this one! I promise!” Cersei tried to quieten him, remind him that indoor voices had to be used in her office, knowing her secretary could hear a pin drop from there, but it was no use, the Baratheon was half way out the door. The golden haired woman groaned and let her head fall onto her crossed arms. She was used to Renly’s set ups and more often than not, she would wander through her door alone, and would toss her phone in her drawer to avoid Renly’s ten text thread asking how it went and for specific details.

“Seven Sharp! At the Chinese restaurant down the main street,” and with that, he was gone, leaving Cersei sitting in bewilderment before continuing to read through the application forms. Damn her twin brother for letting slip her adoration for Chinese food.

 

 

“Listen Sans, I don’t think you understand the danger of the situation!” Arya stomped her foot, in attempt to grab her sister’s attention. The little Stark was fuming, red in the cheeks and any moment now steam should be billowing from her ears. The elder girl waited until she had perfectly reapplied her rouged lip gloss before finally acknowledging Arya’s existence with a confused frown. The elder girl had sunglasses perched on her head despite the fact she remained indoors for the duration of the morning. She wore a suitable denim skirt with white leggings, white sandals and a short white crop top that had a laughing with tears emoji printed on the front of it.

“Which situation? Rickon in the bathtub or the broken toaster?” Sansa arched a brow as she puckered her lips at her mirror, making sure her make-up was perfect. The brunette groaned, rolling her eyes wildly. She was wearing black shorts with rips in the sides, with grey bangles around her wrists and a dark khaki tee-shirt with studs around the shoulders. The shirt had big white letters of their local hockey team, Arya was one of the most valuable players of the North Westeros team Winter whistlers. She had been playing for three years now and her coach, Osha had grown too fond of her star player that she was paying for individual coach sessions so Catelyn didn’t have such a financial drain in her purse.

“Mom’s situation!” the girl raised her voice, throwing her arms up in despair as her sister merely nodded in reply. Again, she groaned, sinking to her knees and sprawling out on her back on Sansa’s rug. “what are we going to do?” her tone was hard to place, it was a mix between ‘You’re elder you’re supposed to know everything,’ and ‘If we don’t do something the world will end and it will be catastrophic,’. According to Sansa, those were Arya's only two moods. The auburn haired girl spun on her stool to face the human carpet and sighed irritably.

“Mom doesn’t 'have' a situation Arry, it's just a date! There’s nothing wrong with that, and it'll do mom good to get out, don’t you think so?” Sansa spoke dreamily as she flopped on her double bed, propping her chin up with both palms, staring up at her music poster staring her hr instrumental idol Vanessa Mae.

“No! I don’t think so! A 'blind' date. You know what'll happen. It'll go bad, she'll come home and realise how much she misses dad and spend the night crying, like last time!” the youngest girl announced protectively sitting up dazed, combing her fingers through the fabric distractedly.

“but what if it doesn’t go wrong? Won’t mum be happy? Unless you want to see her miserable and lonely all the time?” Arya was about to argue with the accusations, a horrified expressions frozen on her face but Robb walked into Sansa's room with a pencil stowed away behind his ear and the front of his jeans were drenched, not to mention the soap suds that abided in his curls.

“Who’s miserable and lonely all the time?” he asked curiously whilst crossing the room to tug a clean towel from the top of the cupboard. “Rickon is in the bath,” he explained sheepishly, attempting to dry his jeans  
“Mom,” Sansa answered as she leant across her bed to reach her bundle of her magazine’s and music scores for her violin and started flicking through one of The Cosmopolitan magazines and also Tchaikovsky’s D major violin concerto, tapping out the time signature on the pages.

“She is not!” Arya fought back defensively, twisting her mood ring around her finger as Robb towel-dried his mop of curly hair, pausing in front of them both.

“Well has anyone actually asked her?” Robb was practically a man now, he had grown taller, leaner and more... well just more, Arya refused to kiss him goodnight whilst he had stubble above his lip and by his chin. Sansa sighed and closed her fashion magazine with a slap.

“That’s a great idea! Let’s go ask mom if she feels sad all the time because she's raising us on her own and missing dad and hardly gets out, let’s ask if she's feeling lonely.” She rolled her eyes and scanned back over her sheet music.

“Mum has a date tonight, Arya, whether you like it or not,” Robb commented shaking his hair back into position. “So ... let’s just be happy for her, and pray for the best,” he reassured with a smile.

Arya looked sullen, sitting cross-legged on the carpet with a dark pout. “Alright, Fine,” she relented, picking at the fibres in the rug. Robb grinned at his sister’s and shrugged coolly.

“Great, I’m going to see if I can help Jon fix that toaster before mom comes home. Sans, think you can get Rickon out the bath soon?” the eldest daughter groaned and closed her music, picking herself up off of her bed.

“On it,” she called halfway out of her door, leaving Arya sitting miserably on the floor.

 

 

Catelyn rest her head on the wheel of her car, tempted to close her eyes and sleep right there and then. Petyr had given her hell at the bank and it took twice as long as it should have to renew and transfer the account, But Petyr seemed insistent on making it troublesome, just so she could hang around a while longer.

The auburn haired woman moaned in irritation as she checked her watch. It was 2:05, she should have been done at 1:30 without the interference. There was a knock at her window and the door opened Ygritte sank into the seat beside her. “Thanks fer waiting Mrs Stark,” the woman smiled as she buckled up her seat belt. Catelyn and Ygritte had a routine now, The Stark would pick up and drop off he ginger haired woman at her home on their way to work. They both wore the same uniform a long navy skirt with a short matching jacket, a white blouse and orange neck tie. Their only difference was Ygritte always had her hair tied back in a ponytail and hers was always braided.

“I’m sorry for the hold up, Baelish had me preoccupied,” Cat explained as she pulled out of the parking spot, blue eyes locked on the road ahead of her.

“Aw, Don’ worry 'bout it. Y'know I’m always running late anyway,” the girl smiled brightly again, inhaling pleasantly. Catelyn's car always smelled nice, like a mix between cinnamon, almonds and pinecones, Ygritte often couldn’t stand the smell of cars, but this was good.

Ygritte unbuckled her heeled shoes, she hated the things, but it was part of her uniform so she had been forced to endure them. She took a moment of bliss to massage her sore feet before returning her attention to the driver. “Ye busy tonigh'? The wilderness is bringing on a swing, maybe ye could join us?” It often takes bit of understanding to get used to the way Ygritte spoke, but the Stark had spent enough time with the girl to be fluent in Ygrittese. The wilderness was actually a block of flats where she and all her friends habituated, the block belonged to Mance, and it was thanks to Osha and Ygritte that she had ever been introduced to such a place. Orell and Tormund owned the Hunter store several roads from her home and would pass it every time she dropped Arya at her Hockey club.

“Yes, actually, I am. I... uh, have a date,” the Stark mother replied sheepishly, pausing at a red light, and turned to her colleague who had been in the middle of messing around with the fish ornament that dangled from the mirror. Cat offered an apologetic smile but the Wild girl had already forgotten about the invite and the fish and was now jumping up and down in her seat, excitedly.

“Why didn’ ye tell me? Who? Who?” Catelyn laughed quietly and switched on the Air conditioning, starting up the car again.

“Because,” she spoke as if that was a decent answer as it was before continuing "I knew you would act like this! And, I don’t know, Renly set me up on a blind date,” the Stark explained with a shy smile painting her lips, tapping her nails distractedly on the wheel.

Ygritte giggled, yet brought on an offended glance, her hand flat on her chest as if shocked by the notion. “Like what, Cat? Ooh, mysterious, a wonder wha' lucky bugger'll be having a time of 'is life tonigh'” she commented with a beam and Catelyn found herself laughing, shaking her head slightly.

“Like an excited Puppy waiting for a newspaper or something!” she replied candidly, pulling into the row of flats. “And according to Renly he's setting me up with a woman,” she stated softly, coming to a stop in front of the unimpressive grey buildings that touched the clouds.

“Well wha' a lucky lass,” Ygritte chuckled and grabbed her shoes, hopping out of the vehicle. “Cheers again, Mrs Stark, good luck on yer date.” The ginger haired wild girl smiled mischievously and waved goodbye.  
“Take care! Oh, and give Osha my love!”

“Will do!” Ygritte grinned waving until the car drove out of sight, even half way down the road, Catelyn could see the silhouette of a girl waving, a pair of heels flying in the air. The auburn haired woman turned on the radio for the rest of the journey home. It was a Saturday, so she would have to drive Sansa to her music recital later, but that wasn’t till four, so Catelyn had plenty of times to stress over this afternoon.

She pulled up in the driveway carefully and inspected her home: the house hadn’t been burnt down; the garage door wasn’t broken; all the windows were still intact and successfully not chipped; the garden was tidy and crayon free and everything looked exactly like she had left it.

Except the fact the trash can lid didn’t fit, hanging off on a slant and threatening to fall off completely is someone so much as sneezed in its direction. Catelyn locked the car and went to investigate. The woman sighed, looking up to the window where Arya usually waited for her and the curtains were drawn shut tightly.  
Robb and Sansa were drying an unhappy Rickon in the bathroom, the boy looked close to tears that anyone had effectively washed him clean, Jon, Bran and Arya sat in the back garden, playing around with the dogs and a ball, a guilty grin on their lips as they heard their mother shout.

  
“What is the toaster doing in the Trash?”


	2. More of an Indian Girl

“Cream is just not your colour!” Sansa protested adamantly, taking the dress that Catelyn had hung up and put it back on the rail. Her mother had given in over fifteen minutes ago and had taken refuge in the chair in the corner of the room, having decided that she wasn’t going.

“You’ve had me try on almost every item of clothing I own!” the Stark woman replied tiredly, resting her head back against the wall. Her daughter had decided to circle all the combinations of attire that she liked in her magazines that would suit Cat on her date, but unfortunately, she didn’t own the entire index of Cosmopolitan. The girl was basing her choices on the colour, but when it came to her mother, she really couldn’t afford to be picky.

“I’ve been waiting for you to choose the green dress!” Sansa urged, knowing her mother would disagree entirely.

“I am not wearing that dress! Not in a million years.” She promised solemnly, in turn receiving the common eye roll. “No,”

“Mom! To be frank you’ve got absolutely nothing else to wear, I simply refuse to let you go out on a date in your uniform, which is quite sad that it’s the only decent thing you’ve got, besides ‘that’ dress,” The girl spoke passionately, she had a tonne of hobbies, and along with her violin and another abundance of qualities, she was a very good designer, after all she had browsed every magazine, and Catelyn had learnt to trust her judgement.

Sansa swept through every hanger until she had found what she was looking for, untouched at the far end. She brought out the outfit and held it up. “Mum, it’s beautiful, I don’t see why you don’t want to wear it.” It was a simple wear, a lush dark green short dress that just reached the knees, with a black satin hem at the bottom, the waist and collar, it covered the shoulders slightly and hung in a delicate way. The rear of the attire was trailed in buttons down to the small of the back and Catelyn thought about it for a brief moment before relenting under the daughters pressurised views and remarks.

“Okay, would you button me up?” she queried with a smile as Sansa’s face lit up.

“You bet!” she disregarded the hanger immediately, pressing the fabric into her mother’s hands, “Get changed!” the girl ordered, tripping out of the room to probably boast to her brothers of her success in the fashion crisis. Robb would only half listen, probably engrossed for her entire speech texting Jeyne, Bran would probably just nod with an occasional ‘hmm’ not once looking up from one of his three eyed raven comic books, and Rickon would listen whole heartedly and end up coming to the conclusion dinosaurs did in fact like the colour orange by the end of it.

A few minutes later Cat nervously called her daughter back in to aid her with the buttons. Sansa felt a wave of pride, both for her mother and also that she herself was basically another version of Stella McCartney, another of her fashion heroes alongside Oscar de la Renta and Gianne Versace.

Catelyn hardly ever wore dresses, perhaps for the odd special occasion, and her work uniform skirt was the closest thing a person could get otherwise, but the Stark was stunning. She had left her hair down, over one shoulder so that Sansa could access the buttons without her auburn tresses falling in the way. The Stark mother seemed rather uncomfortable in the attire, it wasn’t her usual wear, and Sansa feared that she would change her mind and stand staring at all her clothes until something jumped up and screamed ‘Wear me!”. But Catelyn accepted her unfortunate fate and didn’t complain. “How is it?” she asked tentatively as her daughter made an effort to push each button through every slip.

“Beautiful,” the girl answered truthfully, smiling at the finished outcome. “you look lovely, mum,”

 

Cersei needed a new hairdryer.  
Cersei needed a new matchmaker.  
Cersei needed a new firstborn child.

She supposed Joffrey took after his uncle, Tyrion, an annoying tyrant with no benefit to her life whatsoever. He had always had a rather edgy side, most four year olds laid on the door with a colouring book and crayons... four year old Joffrey would stomp across the patio and the garden, and catch the bugs...firmly... with his boots. She blamed Robert for not treating him the way a father should treat a boy, but even she could not control the selfish excuse of a child.

She had come home from her office only three hours prior to greet her complaining neighbour at the drive, headphones pressed to his ears, but the adapter hanging loosely around his neck.  
“Cersei,” Gendry groaned seconds after her heel had touched the pavement and pulled the unused headphones off of his ears. “You know I'm a writer, and you know I can’t work under the noise!” the man accused tiredly and seriously.

“Let me guess Joffrey?” It didn’t surprise her, she could hear from there the metal music blaring from the amp in his room, as he tackled a solo on his electric drum kit in time with the band on his phone.

“Damn right Joffrey, Look, Miss Lannister, I’m in a profession, I am exactly half way through the second book in drafts, how am I supposed to concentrate while He's been at it all day?” the black haired male seemed irritated as he scratched at his chin.

“Apologies Gendry, do work in peace, I’m going out tonight but I'll have Jaime look after the three tonight,” she promised, noting the relieved look in his eyes as he turned back and headed inside.

Tommen and Myrcella sat together in the porch, a pack of cards opened between them and seemed to be in the middle of a deadly game of Whist. She knew why, it was the quietest area in the house. Their two faces lit up as she entered, but immediately the noise deafened her, and her smile twisted into a grimace. “I’m going to sort out Joffrey!” she shouted and could only hope her children could hear her.

The golden lioness needed earplugs as she climbed the stairs, the sound waves could have sent her flying and the reverb rocked through the walls causing mini earthquakes to the pictures that decorated the halls. “Joffrey!” the woman yelled, but her oldest boy either didn’t hear her, or didn’t want to, continuing to attack the pedals of his kit. As soon as she switched off the amp, the house fell under blissful quietness but left a fatal ringing in her ears.

Joffrey was scowling as he flung the drumsticks on his bed and moodily turned back to his mother. “What?”

“Pack your bags, you're going to Jaime’s for the night” she muttered unimpressed as she shut the door on her way out.

She was running later than she had planned, and for that she blamed her faulty hairdryer. Cersei had dressed in a lush red gown that clung to her body like cellophane, each curve and formation clearly visible with the tightly woven fabric excelling her perfect features. She had decided to curl her hair and had spent longer on her makeup than she did in the shower. With her gorgeous attire she chose her golden heels, and set of golden lion jewellery that had been passed on from her mother, which one day would go to Myrcella. She heard a truck pull up and miles knowing her brother had come to pick up their children. She heard the bell ring and Tommen’s eager voice yelling he would get it.

“There’s my little king!” Jaime laughed and lifted the boy into big embrace. Cersei couldn’t lift Tommen any longer, he had grown far too heavy for her, but her twin had as much trouble lifting him as he had lifting Ser Pounce. Two pairs of arms hung around Jaime’s neck as he hugged the two youngest children. Cersei appeared at the top of the Stairs, rather flushed and anxious. Jaime's smile lit the hall as she descended and he hooked one arm around her waist and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Dear sister, you look ravishing,” he complimented and let his twin blush more. “Nervous?” he edged and she shot him a cruel glance.

“Of course not, go get you bags, loves,” the two blonde children raced to pull their bags from their rooms.

“Joffrey?” Jaime asked arching a brow. Cersei sighed and looked up to the ceiling.

“Upstairs. I'd love to stay and chat, but I’m late,” she brushed past him and made her way to the car quickly. He gave a curt wave and a sly smirk that made her worry for the safety of her paintwork on the patio.

“Don’t have too much fun,” he winked as she scowled playfully before pressing off towards her favourite restaurant in all of town.

 

The Chinese place on the main street was fancy. There were a lot of words to describe it, but fancy was just written all over 'The Three Dragons,’. The restaurant itself was painted in a blood red that was alarmingly vibrant in comparison to the surroundings, with darker tiles and golden drapes and lanterns hanging from the drainpipes. By the rounded entrance stood two solid stone dragons, fierce looking creatures with alarmingly good detail, sitting identically on their hind quarters, their claws pressed together in a cupped position, almost as if they were homeless and begging for spare change. The rain had smoothed the scales on the snouts and one of the dragons was growing it's own moss on its head. There was a delightful golden glow from the inside, warm and inviting against the dimming atmosphere, with the retiring sun. The music from inside was appealing and capturing, somewhat drawing attention from the Stark. There were several cars parked outside, the silver Ferrari just paces away from the door as if someone needed a quick escape, but Catelyn was suddenly gladly relieved she hadn’t travelled by car, as the streets were either double yellow lines or jam packed with vehicles like an oversized game of Tetris. Even from the outside, the aroma came wafting through the surroundings, making any passer-by's mouth water.

Catelyn pushed open the door and was greeted by the sight of a third dragon, plated in gold in the centre of the restaurant, propped up by a small water fountain that trickled into a golden base, littered with coins, supposedly a wishing fountain. The third dragon was bigger than the begging gargoyles that stood guard at the entrance, it stood on all four limbs and wings outstretched dangerously, as if it were preparing for lift off. At the desk stood a young blonde girl who apparently owned the restaurant, Daenerys, who was talking to one of the trainees, Missandei.

The auburn haired woman had been so distracted with the dragon fountain she had not been paying enough attention as to where she was ambling, and all of a sudden the wind was knocked from her lungs as she collided with another woman who let out a surprised ‘oof’ and threatened to stumble. Catelyn managed to steady them both and proudly kept them both off the floor, but Cersei's scornful glare made her wish she could have let her fall instead.

“Ms Lannister,” she gasped in shock and partial disbelief, a weak embarrassed blush creeping up her neck, looking extremely apologetic. “I am so very sorry,” The Stark nibbled nervously on her lower lip as Cersei shot her a familiar annoyed glance.

“Waiting for someone?” she muttered briefly not acknowledging the apology, sounding as if he wasn’t even interested as she toyed with the phone in her hands, before wiping the non-existent creases from her dress.

“Yes, actually,” Catelyn replied quietly. “A date, perhaps you’ve seen her?” the Stark surveyed the tables and the customers, all already with a partner, or family. Cersei’s starry emerald eyes widened slightly, refusing to believe the words that had been brought forth from the other woman’s lips. Instead, she brought on a warm smile and spoke with a voice drenched in honey.

“Yes, actually,” the woman copied sweetly. “She parked there about twelve minutes ago,” Cersei indicated to her own Ferrari through the window. “She was sitting ‘there’ for the majority of the time,” she pointed to the table where she had sat, her coat and handbag still hanging on her allocated seat, and she still had too much sugar in her tone. “And right here... right here is where she was almost knocked to the floor by a rogue Catelyn Stark,”  
The women stared at each other for a sincere moment, dazzling sapphire connected to sparkling emerald.

Catelyn’s train of thought had come reeling off its railway tracks and now she wasn’t really sure what to do. It was almost as if she had to restart the power in her mind to think clearly once again. “You’re her?” Renly Baratheon had set her up with Cersei plain perfect, goddess of everything beautiful, the Queen of all things expensive Lannister? “Beg my Forgiveness Ms Lannister,”

The golden haired woman smirked gradually and returned to her seat, Catelyn taking the other opposite to her, shrugging off her jacket. It wasn’t fair. Whenever the Stark mother had seen Cersei Lannister, the woman always looked flawless no matter what, whether it be smart or casual, or annoyingly flatteringly gorgeous as she was now. Whatever look she was going for... she hit it.

The auburn haired woman offered a smile and dared to open a conversation. “Does this happen often? Renly and dates?” She tucked he chair under further and rest her hands in her lap, as the brunette trainee wandered over to order drinks. Cersei didn’t hesitate to answer with a wine and Catelyn followed suit. The blonde smiled smugly again, resting her arms on the table cloth gently.

“It does, too often, because of Renly, I've had more dates than: Noah had animals, King Henry had wives and I've had glasses of wine, now ‘that’ is unacceptable,” she expressed whilst fiddling with the fork. She tore her gaze away from the silverware and back to Catelyn who was grinning softly at her previous comment. “You look nice,” Cersei added and watched the colour rush into her cheeks, it was rather endearing and gave her a reason to keep the teasing smirk tight upon her lips.

“Thank you,” Catelyn brushed aside the comment lest she blush even more. “And you are stunning...” 'Catelyn bloody Stark, you just called Cersei Lannister Stunning...’ she chided to herself, mentally berating herself for it. The thought was allowed to be in her mind, but she wasn’t allowed to put it into words, not with her.

“How about you? Ren obsessing over being your personal cupid?” She took the bottle from the waitress and poured out two large, precisely equal glasses, setting the rest aside for now as she raised the delicate brim to her lips, leaving the glass smudged red on contact, unable to help but grin at the fact the Stark had called her stunning.

“Not so much, It will just be out of the blue, Petyr, Beric, Ellaria,” Catelyn listed shaking her head. “I think you’re the most decent one he's forced me with so far,” the woman chuckled humourlessly before willing herself to just shut up and drink. The taste of liquor was too strong for Cat, it burned down her throat like liquid fire, the prickling sensation was what she relished in to ease her mind. It was the sensation the became addictive and half the glass had been emptied of unawareness.

“Well, you're alright, he is not yet arranging you with relatives,” Cersei chuckled and browsed the menu, once or twice looking up from the dishes to catch wolf's eye and smirk.

“That sounds terrible,” she wondered, trying to imagine if Renly had set her up with a relative of her own, She would have hell of a lot to say to him. The woman fidgeted slightly in her seat. Cersei Lannister was known throughout the whole town mainly by her strong business and reputation, and to be seated by her was awkward enough, but then there was this whole date issue that made her nervous on the inside.

Cersei folded up her menu and regarded the Stark as she scrolled through the options with a confused look printed on her features, and it took her a little self control to try not to laugh. “You don’t know what any of that is, do you?” the auburn haired woman looked up as if she had been caught red handed, a small pleading glance in her gentle blue eyes.

“I’m afraid not, I’m more of an Indian girl myself,” the woman explained apologetically as Cersei scooted her chair around so they could both share the menu as the Lioness would point out several dishes and explain them. By the seventh query and detailed explanation in full context and proper pronunciation of the name, Catelyn gave in and glanced hopelessly to the Lannister. “What are you having?”

Cersei laughed softly and pointed to the menu, tapping her rouged nail against it. “Lo Mein,” the woman smiled coyly as the other simply raised a brow.

“Low Mane?” It was all the Lioness would do not to choke on her wine, damn the Stark woman for making her laugh.

“You like noodles?” she questioned briefly, receiving a curt nod in response, “Well, you'll like this,” Cersei placed the order and topped up Catelyn’s glass before her own, not interested in shuffling her chair back to its original position at the other side of the table and instead sat adjacent to the other woman. She checked her watch and smiled. “We've lasted twenty minutes, you’ve been on a date with me for longer than half of Renly’s victims, well done” she mused.

“Thank you? I take it your dates don’t usually go too well?” Cat pondered propping up the menu again.

“The go excellently well... Free wine,” The golden haired woman explained jokingly, watching Catelyn smile in return.

“Does this happen often in Chinese places, why am I an exception?” she pondered dumbfounded.

“Oh, no dear, It's just that you’re more of an Indian girl,” Cersei smirked softly.


	3. The love of a woman

There wasn’t a single drop of wine left in the bottle by the time the two women had finished their meal and were conversing pleasantly on a much more level ground, as if they had been friends for years, and simply enjoying an evening at 'The Three Dragons,’.

“And you said, ‘You’ve-” Catelyn laughed unable to finish the statement, wiping a numerous tear from her eye.

“You’ve got one more life and a go-cart,” Cersei completed, clutching her side to relieve herself of the pain from laughing too hard. They had sat together like this for well over two hours, and had watched the majority of the customers come and go, and often give them odd glances due to their loudness or the fact the lion sat with the wolf, and both managed to not bite each other’s necks, that could come later.

“That is priceless,” Cat giggled, draining the remains of her glass, and turning towards the blonde. “You have quite the imagination, Ms Lannister,” the other woman smirked and opened her mouth to reply when another waitress came over with the bill and a smile, Doreah, it was according to the name badge. “Could I borrow your pen love?” Catelyn asked gently much to the other two women’s surprise. The auburn haired woman scribbled on one of the napkins before handing it to Cersei and the pen back to the waitress who she tipped in advance. “That’s my number,” she announced innocently, as the blonde smiled smugly, folding the paper and tucking it into her purse.

“I’ll be sure to call you,” the lion promised, gently resting her hand atop of the other woman's just as her phone rang and she sighed in irritation having forgotten to put it on silent. “Who the hell is phoning me?” she grumbled and checked the number “Renly... Hello?” Cat giggled watching Cersei roll her eyes, as she listened closely.

“ _Going to tell me how it went Drama Queen_?” he chided, and she held the phone close to her ear.

“Goddammit Renly! We're still here!” she hissed glancing apologetically at the Stark.

“ _It went that good? Ooh tell me what happened_!” Cersei hung up, shaking her head with a nervous laugh.

“I’m sorry,” she bit her lip as Catelyn stood, helping her date up as she did.

“I think it’s about time we left anyway, I have work tomorrow,” The auburn haired woman paid and linked her arms with Cersei as they left the Chinese restaurant.

The Lannister wasn’t sure what hit her harder: The rush of cold air that consumed her body as they stepped out into the open; or the contact that the Stark woman had her arm wrapped around her own, but the latter didn’t bother her, she liked it actually. “Where's your car Catelyn Stark?” she asked, observing the vehicles parked along the road, and turning to glance at the redhead, who merely shrugged disregarding the question.

“I walked,” she explained tiredly, and a smile stretched the Lannister’s tender lips, tugging the woman in the direction of her Ferrari.

“I’ll drive you,” Cersei offered, and before the Stark could assure her that there was no need, she repeated the statement and that was final.

 

“This is me,” Catelyn muttered, indicating to the closest house on the right. It was a mediocre building that settled nicely in this area of town, and the garden was well looked after and presented. “I can take it from here” she reassured calmly.

“I am going to walk you to the door whether you like it or not” Cersei chided and Catelyn relented far too easily. The blonde and the auburn haired woman ambled up the garden path pausing on the porch and she soon turned to face the other.

The night was dark and full of silence, save from the odd car a few streets down and the insistent beating of her own heart. From such a close proximity Cat could smell the woman’s perfume, that sent a craving impulse to her brain to be closer. The Lannister was bathed in the golden glow of a street lamp that soaked her skin in radiant light, and her golden hair illuminating. The cold atmosphere made the Stark shiver and Cersei instinctively rubbed the woman’s arms to fight the chill from her bones “You should get inside, keep warm,” she advised, smiling down at the other woman, but Catelyn began to protest and without thinking, the Lioness had gently pressed her finger to her lips to cease the Tully's complaints.

Cat took a short intake of breath as the Lioness replaced her fingertips with her lips and kissed her. Cersei’s cherry rendered lips were delicate and unyielding pressed against her own, smooth as marble but warm and inviting, the touch alone could have made Catelyn loose herself in this woman. Goosebumps showered her skin like April rain as agile digits combed through her tresses, ever so slightly pushing her head forward to sink her lips more firmly against her Stark. The blonde could still taste the soothing liquor on her warm, tingling lips, whilst the wolf tentatively traced her fingers across both of Cersei’s porcelain pink cheeks. If the auburn haired woman believed in magic this kiss would be her prime example, the way two pairs of lips connected, the affection that radiated from the supple flesh. The Lannister’s wandering hands caressed the she-wolfs hips, and in an instant their bodies were pressed pleasantly against each other. Cat gasped for breath and Cersei took the moment to refill her lungs, before determinedly kissing the other woman again and again, all to which Catelyn reciprocated quickly and passionately. Cersei drank in the sight of the Stark woman, flushed and breathless, cheeks feverishly red. She admired her handiwork, shading the Lady’s lips a darker red than they had been originally. Above all she enjoyed seeing Catelyn Stark like this, in her power, she only needed to slip her tongue into the Starks mouth to have her moaning. To Cat, it felt as if they had stood in front of her door for an hour, and though she had enjoyed every second, and yes, her heart was still racing, she detached herself from the Lannister who offered her a first class smug grin.

“Not bad for an Indian girl,” the woman smirked as Catelyn nudged into her playfully.

“Shut up,” she couldn't banish the smile as Cersei pecked her lips once more and made her way back down the garden.

“Goodnight Catelyn,” she announced quietly starting the ignition and then the engine. Catelyn smiled genuinely as she waved from her door as the Ferrari drove off, leaving the Stark mother to close the door behind her, and resting her exhausted body against it, and kicking off her shoes.

“So, how did it go?” the woman looked up to see Sansa beaming up at her, sitting cross legged at the foot of the Stairs, Robb and Jon leaning against the Bannister and Arya sitting on the fourth step up propping her chin up on her palms tiredly. The oldest Stark girl was wearing her pyjamas, looking right ready to fall into bed, and the boys rather comfortable in shorts and shirt, and Arya more than happy wearing one of Jon's old grey shirts that hung around her thighs, it was her favourite shirt that she would wear on a night, that had 'needle games 2013’ printed on the back. It was too small for Jon now so Arya had claimed it before it had the option to be thrown out or given away.

“It was good,” she admitted with a suppressing smile, hoping that her cheeks were not as heated as they felt. “Alright it was very good,” Sansa mouthed the biggest ‘yes’ balling her fist and punching the air. Her other daughter seemed moodily surprised and slightly sulky, but of course she knew too well that Arya didn’t like her having dates.

“I’m glad Cat,” Jon grinned embracing her momentarily, before pulling apart and letting Robb and the girls hug their mother in turn “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” she sighed picking her shoes off the floor.

“We want details Ma!” Sansa ordered despite her sisters roll of the eyes and Cat sighed yet again.

“You can have details with a side of pancakes for breakfast if you go to bed now,” Sansa was up the stairs before Catelyn could say 'lemon cakes', and the other three clambered up after her with a chorus of ‘night mum's'.

Catelyn sat down on her bed tiredly, rubbing at her eyes. The thought of a good night’s sleep brought her inevitable calmness, but her thoughts were invaded by a stunning blonde with talented lips... and with the chain of memories rushing back to her from that evening, the Stark checked her phone, even though she knew that Cersei hadn't had the chance yet to text her, and it wasn’t even positive that she would. Still, she checked through her inbox.

 **Ygritte**. _Well, How’d it go? X talk at work 2moro, lots a love x_

 **Renly.** _Tell me Everything darling, hope you’re not mad I put you with CL :)_

 **Osha.** _Just to let you know Cat, Arya has a hockey championship in two weeks, bet you’re proud of her_.

Catelyn scrolled through her texts and had just been about to switch off her phone when it vibrated in her hand, the glass illuminated with the title of an unknown contact

 _Thank you for a lovely Evening Cat, perhaps again sometime? Cersei. X_ The woman smiled down at the screen and saved the number, not hesitating to reply.

 _I'd Love that, truly. xx_ Almost seconds later the screen it up and Catelyn chuckled, opening the text.

 _It’s a date. Goodnight, my Indian girl_. The woman blushed and laid back on her bed and twenty odd buttons dug into her back and she groaned with a mumble of 'bloody buttons,’ and went to see Sansa.

 

“Cersei Lannister?” Ygritte exclaimed loudly forgetting that Catelyn had specifically told her to keep her voice down as she retold some of the details of her date just last night. Cat nodded in slight embarrassment at the smile on her lips letting a soft 'mhm' slip as she worked. Ygritte guffawed and arched a brow. “ye spent three bloody hours with the woman an' all I get is a 'mhm'? Fuckin' Hell Cat! I want to know things!” the wild girl expressed.

The Stark sighed. “Well, we went to the three Dragons,” she started, ignoring the awed look from the ginger haired girl, before proceeding. “And at first she seemed frightening, as if she had planned to pulverise me the entire time and Renly was just helping her do so... but then, she changed, she became warmer, and delightful, we laughed and talked, and she drove me home,” Ygritte found it hard to believe that Cersei Lannister had it in her to be loving, nor that her friend had it in her to be loving towards that woman. She glanced at Cat and noted the redness in her cheeks, the dazed smile on her lips.

“Oh, Dear Gods. You kissed her didn’ ye?” her colleagues head snapped up in alarm, earnestly shaking her head.

"No, of course not, I... she... how can you tell?” she admitted hopelessly, resting her head on one hand as she flicked through a bunch of papers.

“Yer Drunk, Cat, Love Drunk!” Ygritte giggled and just as Catelyn was about to protest there was a knock at the door and Gilly came wandering in, looking confused and entirely lost.

“There’s a woman in the reception wanting t'see you Mrs Stark...” the girl swallowed nervously, And Cat exchanged baffled glances with Ygritte, the auburn haired woman following the brunette out of the door.

Cersei Lannister stood in the Foyer, awaiting that mousey looking girl to fetch the Stark woman, tapping her foot agitatedly in anticipation. Her green eyes lit up as she met the vigilant blue that widened in registration. “Cersei,” her voice had lowered to a whisper, meeting the blonde in the middle of her work the day after their first date had not been on her agenda. “What are you doing here?” she cast a nervous glance around, unbelievably thankful Ygritte hadn’t decided to follow her.

“When’s your Lunch Break? The woman whispered back quizzically, resisting the urge to touch the other woman in front her colleagues, to kiss her lips, unclip the updo and thread her fingers through her hair.

Catelyn checked her watch and sighed. “Three minutes.” Cersei smirked dangerously and pulled the woman through the front entrance.

Barely five minutes later Cersei perched on a bench in the middle of the park surrounded by trees and the delightful buzz of chatter so indistinct as Catelyn laid on her back next to her with her head resting lightly in the Lannister's lap, both clutching an ice cream and giggling. Cersei with her chocolate flavour and Cat with her lemon top.

The fallen leaves were interwoven into an autumn carpet, weaved in red gold and brown, stretching across the horizon and blanketing the dew laden grass. The half-naked trees kept raining down an abundance of mystifying colours that buried the pathway, and the divine iridescence matched Catelyn’s autumn locks.

“You look beautiful.” Cersei smiled down at the other woman, who’s auburn hair splayed in a river across her legs as the Stark grinned. She had the kind of smile that made Cersei reciprocate it, as if her smile reached into her soul and fixed everything. As her naturally deep pink, full lips began to slowly curl into that famous, heart warming smile, it created the softest hint of a dimple in her glowing rosy cheeks.

“Cersei, It’s just my work uniform,” The Stark commented with a brief blush as she nestled her head comfortably on the blonde’s legs. True, it made it much more challenging to eat her ice-cream in such a given position, but nevertheless she managed. Catelyn could only see the Lions ravishing face smiling down at her in front of a blue painted canvas, and the odd strolling cloud trespassing on the endless stretch of sky, but it was certainly the best sight she had seen all day. Her break was only twenty-five minutes and they had already spent Fifteen of them in that delightful moment, Cersei had finished her chocolate flavored ice cream, and Cat was almost there, but let out a small gasp as the melting delicacy dripped onto her skirt whilst trying not to laugh.

“I’ve got to clean this up,” the woman murmured, catching several more drips of melted ice cream.

“Come on, restroom is just a minute away,” The blonde smirked and led the other woman by the hand.

 

Cat was perched against the row of sinks in the vacant restroom whilst Cersei attempted to clean her up a bit. She rubbed at the mark insistently, but the stubborn stain was more than happy to have a death-grip on her skirt, and there was no denying that she was also.

With a fresh resolve, the Lannister leant in to kiss the woman, still marvelling at the softness of her lips. Catelyn had been keen to clean up the mess but with the new distraction it had been forgotten within seconds. The lion advanced on her prey, the redhead pressed against the sinks and the tiled wall as tongues collided, wrestling in competition to be inside the others mouth. The blonde would have smirked had her lips not been so preoccupied, as the hand that had been resting on her knee travelled upwards, venturing underneath the skirt of her uniform, fingers grazing at her thighs causing the Stark to gasp inaudibly. She broke the contact between their lips. “Cersei…”

“Ssh my darling, trust me,” her knowing emerald eyes soothed the hesitant blue orbs, and Catelyn after a decisive moment attached her lips back onto the Lannister’s. Her drifting hand continued its ascent, her fingers pressing the fabric against her throbbing core. The panties were pushed aside and seconds later and replaced with two questioning flingers. The Stark shuddered and a warm sigh escaped her, gently bucking her hips in response. The slight rocking of the Starks hips encouraged Cersei not to hesitate, and buried her lithe digits deep within the wet heat of Catelyn’s core and the blonde herself let out a low moan as she felt the muscles clamp around her fingers. Her hand was perfectly hidden underneath Catelyn skirt, but obscuring her fingers made no difference anyone could still see two women making out. The auburn haired woman forgot how to speak, her lids fluttering closed and she propped herself up with her hands on the sink behind her, as the lioness curled her finger upwards, whilst devouring her mouth in the corner of the public restroom. The intrusion made the woman ache in lust and desire, her hips canting against the rhythm of Cersei’s fingers in unison, and a string of delicate moans spilling past her lips in praise. The Lannister was hungry for the woman submissive before her, increasing the pace of her fingers working against her core, and her thrusts strengthening as she the successful wet sounds echoed in the small room. The wolf’s walls pulsed sensationally as Catelyn’s orgasm raced towards her, coaxed by Cersei’s intimate attitude. A cry from the Stark woman made Cersei smirk when her thumb traced agonizing circles upon her clit, and within minutes, the auburn haired woman’s moans increased, muffled by her own dominant lips. It was a luscious torture that Catelyn could no longer endure, and her body convulsed through its orgasm, with her thighs tightening around Cersei’s hand, and her desperate cry’s swallowed by the gorgeous blonde. Slowly, the Lannister retracted her fingers as the Wolf caught her breath before pecking Cersei’s lips again.

“Come over tonight?” the woman pleaded quietly, husky and breathless. The Lioness smirked.

“Of course,” Catelyn smiled at the reply, smoothing down her uniform, the stain still clearly visible. The Stark checked her watch and the joy in her luminescent eyes vanished.

“I’m going to be late,” The Woman fretted and Cersei dropped her secret lover back off at the doors, a naughty smirk on her lips.

“Do catch your breath, dear Catelyn,”


	4. Sleep Tight, Love Bite, Cat Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter does contain mild examples of insulting name calling, please do not take offense to what may be said, for it is directed from characters to other characters and is in no way a representative of my views on people. Thank you, and enjoy.

“Mom! You’re daydreaming again!” Arya snapped, tapping her Hockey stick off of the floor impatiently. The youngest daughter wore her team kit, the black shirt with ‘Stark’ in bold capitals on the back, and WW printed on the shoulder blades in dazzling white, like her shorts. Black socks had been tugged up to her knees and her Hockey shoes were the most expensive things the girl owned. Of course on the rink she would attach the skates and then she would be playing with a Puck not a ball, but whatever practise she had, the better.

Arya, Catelyn and Rickon were in the large back garden, the young wolf determined to practise her skills on a Sunday, when her coaching didn’t take place. The brunette had text her teammates that morning in a desperate urge to practise passes, shoots and blocking, but they had turned her down, having better things to do on a crisp Sunday morning, than knocking a lethal death ball around with a stick. Jeyne and Meera were the only ones to get back to her, both unfortunately explaining why they couldn’t make it. That left Arya to practise with her mother.

The woman seemed oddly distracted, as if an illuminated butterfly kept flying dizzily around her head, and the young Stark had to constantly remind her about her upcoming hockey tournament.

“Come on Mom! Please just try and stay focused! I have to thwart Joffrey in the match on Friday!” Arya complained grumpily, dribbling the ball around the blade of the stick occupying herself whilst her mother had zoned out. Catelyn shook herself from her daze and frowned shallowly, completely a deke move which Arya successfully intercepted.

“Joffrey?” the Stark mother inquired. The blonde kid had a fierce reputation in the Stark household. Sansa's ex-boyfriend. Arya's nightmare. Cersei Lannister’s God forsaken brat. Arya nodded, her eyes piercing the ball with such an intensity it ought to have exploded already, gliding through a tackle.

“Mhm. He plays defence for the Southern Predators. Their coach is Asha Greyjoy, so they’re pretty good,” the brunette admitted with a face that looked as if she had just swallowed vinegar. Arya liked the Greyjoy woman well enough, she was a wonderfully bad influence in terms of language, and Arya couldn’t help but snicker when she heard the woman shout at Joffrey calling him an abundance of names, she was like that with everyone on the team, but nobody dared question her. Arya wouldn’t go so far as to call Asha Greyjoy a crush, more like hopeful inspiration, besides, she kept dramatically flirting with the blonde from the Chinese place. Knowing Greyjoy, she had probably fucked her already.

Arya had been preoccupied with her thoughts that she had fumbled her tackle and the ball had been taken from her possession, causing her to grumble moodily. There was a shout from the window, and three pairs of eyes gazed upwards to see Jon leaning out of the upstairs window, phone in hand and looking uneasy. “Aunt Lysa phoned, she invited herself over tomorrow, at five,” Sansa would be the one to usually race to answer the phone, but Robb had drove his sister to violin practise with Talisa. Catelyn sighed, knowing full well that meant everything had to be spotless, and she would rather do the work today than panic tomorrow. She apologised to her younger daughter and offered the spare hockey stick to wild Rickon who's eyes lit up in response. She would hope Arya would teach him how to hit the ball instead of the usual waving-in-the-air-while-screaming-“Charge!”-at-every-insect-and-fly technique.

The woman entered the house through the back door, and gasped suddenly at the scene. Bran lay on the kitchen floor, stationary and immobile, his wheelchair tipped over on its side, feet away from her son, the wheels had long stopped spinning. His floppy chestnut hair fell across his face and eyes closed, his legs awkwardly angled to the side. Catelyn was by his side in an instant, shaking hands checking the boys pulse that was, thank the gods, definitely there. His name fell feverishly from her trembling lips as she yelled for Snow to call the hospital. The sideboard was lined with six plates and half complete with a sandwich. Without Robb and Sansa, that was enough for lunch for the rest of the family. Catelyn laid Bran’s head in her lap as Jon affirmed that an ambulance was on its way, joining her on the floor. She pushed back his stands of most brown hair, revealing his young peaceful face, soft rounded cheeks, and a shower of freckles that sprinkled his nose. Bran had never fallen from his chair before, and he had been confined to that seat for just over five years now.

Catelyn paced the waiting room anxiously awaiting news of her middle aged son. Doctor Luwin had already assured her seven times that they would let her know as soon as they had answers, but that did not ease the mothers troubled mind. Finally, after what felt like several hours of waiting, Luwin explained that the boy had hit his head during his tumble, and had simply knocked himself unconscious.

The first time she had seen Bran in a hospital was when the boy was merely a baby and she had endured her fourth labour at twenty past three in the morning, and she cradled the tiny babe in her arms, her dearest husband by her side to watch over them both. The second time had been heart breaking. His face has been pale as chalk, the oxygen mask pulled over his nose and mouth, and tubes and wires connected him with his only chance of life. Of course, Catelyn had never left his side once after the accident that had left her boy paralysed from the waist down. And now, she sat by his bedside yet again, taking comfort in watching the steady rise and fall of his chest, his gentle breathing was what kept her from going insane. The boy looked angelic, laying peacefully, sleeping in oblivion. The doctors had given her permission to leave, that she could come to collect him tomorrow, but she had not wanted to leave her dearest son. She caressed his cheek, softly, revelling in the warmth that radiated from his skin. There were no words to explain how relieved she was, to know her son was unharmed, as she pressed a loving kiss to his temple, settling back in the chair to watch him throughout the evening.

 

“Cat? Cat darling, wake up,” The Stark felt agile fingers threading softly through her auburn tresses. There was something about that voice that sounded so familiar to the Stark, something about that tone that made her heart skip even in unconsciousness, something that urged her to open her eyes. The lamp by Bran’s bed had been lit and the glass of water half drained.

Immediately, the mother regarded the boy, to see if he had arisen, but Bran Stark laid on his side, fast asleep, the blankets pulled up to his shoulders. “Cat,” the soft whisper turned her attention to the golden haired woman that perched on the arm of the chair she had curled up and slept in. Cersei looked down at her with concern swimming in such gorgeous green eyes. The ward was rather dark, she had slept into the night, and it made the redhead wonder if she was just dreaming of Cersei Lannister again. But the Lioness took her hand and held it, the warm delicate touch soothing her numb fingers. “Jon phoned an hour ago and told me. I drove down as soon as I had finished my shift,” the woman whispered as Cat sat herself up properly, but instead Cersei took her hands and helped her to her feet.

“Cersei...” Catelyn muttered, but the blonde had embraced her, both arms folded around her waist. They stood like that a while, comforted and close, the wolf had buried her nose in the crook of Cersei's neck, she hasn't asked for any consolation, but the Lannister was there at eleven at night, not letting go of her. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m buying Christmas trees.” Cersei answered in such seriousness that the Stark couldn't help but laugh, like a genuine burst of brightness escaping the weak layer of concern that kept her locked inside these four walls. She rest her temple softly against the others, a curtain of gold with red. “I came to take you home,” She corrected, smiling at the other.

“I... I can’t, I have to watch Bran.” Catelyn explained, turning back to regard her son in the bed, his wheelchair sitting lonely in the corner. The boy looked fine, like he did every single night when he slept, the only difference was that tonight he slept in a bed that wasn’t his own.

Apparently, Ms Lannister had been preparing for such an answer, as she tucked a finger under her chin, guiding her head back to face her, green interlocked with blue and she stated confidently, “Bran is fine, I spoke with Doctor Luwin, he said that there is no cause for concern and that he was awake a while ago, the boy knows you’re looking after him. So, I am allowed, and I will, take you home,” The auburn haired woman tried to maintain a look of disapproval, but when tired, it was harder to accomplish than it seems and before long the woman was smiling slightly as Cersei lead her out of the hospital with a comforting am still wrapped tight around her.

Inside of Cersei's car was warm and comfortable, the heat and the wonderful scent of lavender threatened to send Cat back to sleep whilst in the passenger seat of the Ferrari. The drive was silent and short, and at each opportunity, the blonde cast a quick glance to the other. When Cersei pulled up, Catelyn was beyond confused that the exterior house had been redeveloped, repainted and completely redone, and it took longer than it should have, to realise that it wasn't her house at all. “The children are spending the weekend with Jaime,” Cersei assured quietly as she parked in the driveway. “My place is closer to the hospital, you can stay for the night, and pick your son up in the morning, save an extra half an hour journey, love”

She walked the Stark up to the door, fumbling with the keys. The Lioness had a perfect house. Well really? What did she expect? Cersei Lannister was perfect in every other aspect of life, why not throw in a perfect house as well to complete the collection? With the hall lit up, Catelyn wondered if the blonde was actually famous and had neglected to tell her so. She certainly lived as if she was. There was a step up from the foyer that led into the huge entrance where a curled Staircase led up to the second floor, invitingly. The Lannister guided the redhead up the stairs by the hand. She had often had to bring her children home in the middle of a late night, after term parties and hours with friends, and the Lioness mother would have to endure a sleepy child as they trailed after her. Catelyn Stark reminded her of those moments, then she would tuck in her children, kiss them goodnight, that didn’t sound like too much of a bad idea.

“Cersei?” the woman’s low husky voice broke through the silence, and the other glanced to her, concerned. “Why did Jon phone you?” The Tully born looked as if she were trying to piece two bits of a jigsaw that refused to fit.

The Lannister considered it briefly, before answering, “Because he knew I’d be worried about you; He probably knew that I would take care of you… and I ‘will’ take care of you” Cat felt her stomach flutter. Each word that passed the blonde’s luxurious lips filled her with an aching adoration. It was a good pain, like when you’ve been in the snow and suddenly you’re right by the fire, or when you’ve been on your feet all day and you finally sit down. It was an ache she would be willing to endure for a very long time. Under normal circumstances, she would have persuaded her that she didn’t need taking care of, but it didn’t matter.

She would like to be able to say that she could remember the rest of the night, but Catelyn fell into her Cersei’s bed and without a second to lose, the lioness had snuggled up against her back, and wrapped her arms securely around her waist, holding her close. She could feel her breath ghosting the back of her neck, the warm tingle in her skin delightfully pleasant. Their bodies were pressed so close to each other that a straw couldn’t squeeze between them, and for the night, they remained like that, Cersei protectively embracing her little spoon.

 

The Stark woke to the feeling of lavish lips trailing across the side of her neck to the back, working on extracting the satisfying sighs from her, and damn the gods, she was successful. Cersei’s affectionate kisses varied in strength. The soft delicate kisses she gifted to the base of her neck, to the passionate rough force she bestowed to her pulse, causing the fatigued woman to moan tiredly. She was still locked tight in the Lions arms; the only difference was now she was being seduced by her pleasurable lips. Teeth grazed devotedly at the tender mark that Cersei had produced from her demonstrative sucking, all the while coaxing fragile whines from the auburn haired woman in her grasp.

“Morning dear, sleep well?” Cersei smirked, leaning over confirm the grin that played on the wolf’s craving lips. She took a moment to admire her achievements, whether it was blush or her affections that made her neck glow red, well that was impossible to tell, but easy to wager. “Nice bruise forming,” She commented innocently as Catelyn sat up, and had suddenly fixed her with a shocked stare.

“You did not… Cersei I cannot have people noticing a hickey, when I’m working!” she hissed gently, trying to trace the mark with her fingertips, but the blonde only smirked, at the prominent development of the dark mark to her neck.

“I suppose you’ll have to leave your hair down then… I do so love you with your hair down,” Cat fumed, red in the face, to match the scarlet in her neck as she untangled herself from Cersei’s arms and the covers.

“Damn you Cersei,” The auburn haired woman complained, releasing herself from the willing cage and padding over to the other side of the room to check in the mirror that hung elegantly on the wall. Her hair was thoroughly mussed, and she genuinely looked tired, but the love bite was as visible as she was. “Oh fuck…” she repeated in a low whisper. She loved the woman, truly, but now she was fretting on how to cover up this from practically every other human on the planet. Cat was unsure how to respond with a mix of: ‘Fuck it’ ‘Fuck this’ and ‘Fuck you’. And it was the last that she muttered whilst inspecting the bruise.

She crossed the room to obtain her clothes that had been disregarded after borrowing a nightgown from the Lannister, but it was to her wonder that she never made it back to the chair where her attire was neatly folded and waiting. Instead her back had been pinned to the sheets, Cersei atop of her with a knee each side of the Stark’s hips, so that any attempt at moving would be thwarted, which Cat found out quite soon.

“What was that?” the Lion held the redhead’s wrists by her head, staring down at her teasingly. Her tone had taken on a brittle quality, but the common smirk assured the woman everything was okay. It was a sight to behold, Catelyn Stark helpless and beautiful beneath her, her red hair splayed across the bedsheets, a beautiful comparison like blood on snow.

“Come on, Cersei, Let me up. I have to collect Bran and then my sister’s coming,” But instead of loosening her grip as expected, the blonde smirked and attacked her lips for a brief moment that left the Stark dazed.

“You can be too, I promise you that” she hinted cheekily, pressing kisses to her cheeks, neck and chest, as far as the low neckline would allow. “Now, what did you say?” She asked again, with a hint of playful demand in her voice. The woman moaned gently, there was no way she was going to back out of this situation, until Cersei got what she wanted. Her tongue caressed at her collarbone, before the skin had been caught between her sets of pearly-white teeth. “Say it,”

Catelyn writhed underneath the woman, she ought to quit before the affection was noticeable like what had become of the previous example on her neck.

“Fuck you, I said fuck you,” Catelyn relented, the statement falling from her lips in a whimper. The blonde paid her with a round of warm kisses on her lips.

“Well, tonight you can, and I’ll keep my promise” she rolled off the Stark, smirking at the small encounter, and helping the auburn haired woman off of her bed. “Get changed, I’ll drive you to the hospital,”

 

Bran was as fine as ever when his mother and her date, friend, girl, whatever she was, went to pick him up that morning. Doctor Aemon had taken over from Luwin and already had Bran in his wheelchair, and the boy was contently downing a glass of orange juice. Together all three of them helped the Stark boy into the back seat in Cersei’s Ferrari. 

He had never really been one to obsess over cars, but even he was impressed and excited about travelling in this thing. When the trio arrived back at Catelyn’s there was another car parked beside her own, a familiar black Toyota Camry, half on the road and half on the pavement. Cat heard herself sigh before it had even registered.

“Aunt Lysa’s here,” Bran noted unhelpfully.

 

The two Tully sisters had not seen each other in a good few years, and that… was a total blessing she had taken for granted. She wheeled her son through the front door and immediately he took off down the hall, most probably to barricade himself in his room and surround himself with books and comics.

Lysa had aged dramatically. Her face had lined with creases along her brow, probably from constant frowning, and around her thin lips had been decorated with fresh wrinkles that no iron could ever tackle, but Catelyn was more than willing to try. Her auburn hair had grown several shades lighter and she had tied it back, so all in all, resulting in a cross between the Grinch and scrooge… her sister.

“Lysa, ‘dear’ sister, It’s good to see you.” The Stark spoke, finding the words hard to annunciate, before continuing with the inevitable question that was going to make her mind explode if she didn’t get an answer. “Why are you here?”

“Am I not allowed to visit my family, every once in a while?” Lysa retorted, narrowing her cold eyes as she glanced about the surroundings, attempting to find fault in the scene, having noted that the couch was so out of time about thirty-eight times too many, she couldn’t exactly bring it up again. Catelyn wished dearly that she could say no. Of course she loved her sister in some… odd… oblivious… dysfunctional way, but Lysa and her children didn’t mix well.

It had been confirmed on Sansa’s eighth Birthday, when her aunt had taken her aside and started explaining firmly to her it was time to grow up and clarified to her true adult responsibilities. A while later the young Stark found her mother and clung to her waist in tears, sobbing in heartbreak because she didn’t want to get rid of her Pony toy, and swore that she would go to Neverland because she was scared of growing up. It took a whole half hour for Catelyn to get through to her daughter that she could keep her Teddy’s and that she was not to listen to a word that her Aunt had spoken. After that, the girl sniffled and went back to eat her own Birthday cake.

It was true, she did not have a very good way around her children, they had much preferred their uncle, and although he wasn’t Santa Clause, he wasn’t Aunt Lysa, and that was good enough.

“I am sorry Lysa, I’ve been busy, the children are preparing for Hockey matches and”-

“I don’t care about Hockey and whatnot!” She cut across rudely, letting her elder sisters comment go unfinished. “I came to see you,” Catelyn couldn’t help but feel victimized, it was rare of Lysa to just drop in and say _'hi'_ , she could have sworn that her sister didn’t even like her… not that she was complaining.

“What about?” Cat spoke up quietly, and the other just rolled her eyes, groaning. Despite the fact she was younger than the Stark, she was taller, and took immense pleasure in looking down at the woman who had done so to her when they were little.

“Four years, Cat! Four bloody years we haven’t seen each other,” Lysa raised her voice, reminding her sister as to why there was such a long space between visits. “So tell me, tell me news,” the younger of the two demanded impatiently, scowling when Catelyn simply shrugged.

“Nothing, Just Arya’s match…” she dismissed, dipping her head to avoid meeting her piecing gaze.

“Oh really?” Lysa spoke, sounding angry, as if she knew something that Cat didn’t. Arryn stormed over, with lightening pace, as if she could easily knock the furniture over in her stride. The eldest was cornered, her heart pounding ferociously as the other woman closed on her, a vice like grip on her jaw as she angled her head, sweeping away the curtain of auburn hair that had so desperately tried to cover the evidence of Cersei’s play. Catelyn shook as the firm grip didn’t falter the whole while her sister was inspecting the mark on her neck. “And where did you get this?”

Catelyn pulled free from her mad sister, shaking her head in response. “I do not have to answer to you, you’re younger!” the Stark bit back, crossing the room to keep a safe distance between them, but it just infuriated the woman more.

“Where did you get it? Are you fucking someone? You Fucking whore!” Lysa’s voice had raised dramatically until she was practically shouting at the woman, “Do the children know? How would they react when they know their perfect mommy is a whore?” Cat’s shimmering blue eyes burned and stung, she didn’t want to hear any more of it, but her sister was relentless. “Was it Petyr? How fucking dare you mess with him like that, you slut!” She scorned, ignoring the tears that now cascaded down her sister’s porcelain cheeks as she shook her head desperately.

The shouting and commotion had attracted the attention of her children and Robb, Snow, Sansa and Arya had gathered in the doorway, witnessing their mother break down in tears, it was heart-breaking “Aunt Lysa, It’s time to go,” Robb stepped forward bravely, and the woman had no objections to being escorted out the front door, strutting down the pathway with no second glances.

“Your mother’s a whore!” she shouted as the door swung shut before getting back into her car and driving off.

Back in the living room, Catelyn sobbed. Her usual rosy cheeks were pale and now stained with the evidence of her crying. Her eyes had gone red and still glossy with a layer of tears. Her body shook in the embrace of three of her children plus Snow. None of them inquired as to what had happened, they were used to their Aunts outbreaks. Sansa comforted her mother, stroking her back gently, Robb had his arms around her, Jon was making her laugh through the tears, and Arya was busy making a hot cup of tea.

But even after the reassurance her angels had bestowed upon her, Catelyn felt shaken and weak, she laid on her bed, alternating between switching her phone on, opening her phonebook, and switching it back off. After fifteen minutes of this routine, Cat scrolled through the saved contacts and hit dial. Almost immediately, Cersei’s pure crystal voice came through the receiver. _“Hello? Cat, is that you?”_ the Stark couldn’t answer she didn't have the time to explain as she clutched her phone in both hands and broke down in another round of sobs.


	5. Proclamation

Words could not describe how anxious Cersei had been after that phone call. Something was tearing in her chest, pulling her apart at the cries she had heard on the other end of the phone, it was as if someone had quite literally stabbed her in the heart and twisted the knife. The lioness had been in her car before she could ask what was the matter. Cat hung up and Cersei drove with purpose and conviction. The blonde connected her phone with the earpiece receiver that she kept in the car for work and dialled Jaime before setting off, tapping her fingertips on the wheel distractedly.

“ _Hello_?”

“Jaime, Thank Gods,” Cersei responded.

“ _Cersei, you sound troubled, something wrong? I’m dropping the children back off at Lunch, if that’s what you’re worried about”_ her twin brothers reviving tone made her smile softly, not as much as when Catelyn spoke to her so endearingly, but his warmth still had the effect on her.

“Definitely, there’s someone… someone I really care about,” the lioness spoke without the need to think of what to say. Her words even surprised her a little but they were nothing but pure truth. She cared for Catelyn Stark much more than she would care to admit. If she had received that call and her wolf was at the top of mount Everest, Cersei would already be on a flight to the Himalayan mountains, hell she’d even climb it herself.

Suddenly, Jaime’s voice came filtering the receiver and the woman jumped slightly, forgetting she had called him. “ _And you want me to sit with you as you drink and you cry away your feelings_?” he offered diligently, Cersei would have chuckled had this not been a dire situation.

“Nu-uh, I’m not the one crying,” the sister partially explained, finding herself to be even more tense than when she had left her house. She could have sworn in multiple languages when the traffic lights turned red, didn’t the world know that she was in a hurry?

“ _Seven Hells Sis, are you really that bad?_ ” If had been sitting next to her in the passenger seat, she would have punched him in the arm.

“No, she’s upset about something. I’m on my way over now, but I don’t know what to do Jaime,” The exasperation and pleading were clearly detectible in her wavering voice. She was afraid that her voice would crack all together and she would start crying too.

“ _Your date?_ ” He inquired softly, and Cersei let out a pained confirmation. “ _You really love that woman don’t you?_ ” his tone was caring and considerate as the woman continued driving. She nodded, partially aware that the signal couldn’t be interpreted over phone.

She loved the way Catelyn blushed whenever she gave her a compliment or kissed her gentle lips. She loved the auburn hair that she could thread her fingers through literally whenever she wanted to, she loved how such fiery colour brought out her dazzling blue eyes, which she loved just as much, if not more than her hair. She had no objections to just sitting and watching the Stark, watching her eyes light up, the smile curl on her lips. She loved the hands that would often simultaneously grasp her own, she loved the fingers that entwined with hers, or drew little circles on her skin when their hands were interlocked. She loved the arms that held her, that made her feel like she was in heaven. She loved the low, husky voice that made her want to laugh and cry at the same time, the way she spoke to her… just to her, Cersei loved everything about her. She loved her.

“More than anything,” The sister croaked quietly, on the verge of letting loose her own tears.

“ _Well, show her_ ,” Jaime prompted, and Cersei nodded mutely again, she had been doing so since their first date. Of course she had been showing her! Alright, she wasn’t exactly parading across town with illuminated banners of a proclamation of love with flashing lights and… the Lannister woman paused in her thoughts.

“Jaime… What if I can’t do this? What if I’m not meant to be happy? And perhaps she will be far better off with someone who actually knows what to do in such circumstances. I don’t--” Jaime had cut her off, she spoke too quickly and desperately as she drove.

“ _Cersei Stop that, if anyone deserves to be happy it's you, If she makes you happy, then where is the problem? You know what to do Sis_ ,” he pointed out helpfully, but the woman was literally and metaphorically on a roll.

“Thank you, Jaime, thank you,” she whispered in gently as he bid her good luck and hung up, conveniently timed as she pulled up in the spot the black car had been in less than an hour ago. A pretty pale face was staring at her through the window, a positive smile on her features, a shock of dashing auburn, but the face was younger, chin more pointed, and eyes were darker than Catelyn’s and soon, her eldest daughter greeted her in the garden. 

“Miss Lannister? You here to see my mum?” The girl asked hopefully, her face brightening when the woman nodded in response, “Good, she needs you,” Sansa quietly confirmed before retelling as much of the experience as she knew of. Lysa going mad and accusing her mother, somehow her aunt believed Petyr to be involved. Cersei listened but her mind was reeling because of those four words that the girl had spoken.

‘ _She needs me_ ’ the Lannister thought. She didn’t care If Catelyn needed her there to sit by her or to fetch her a yogurt from the fridge, whatever she needed, it was hers. “Are you and mom together?” Sansa questioned out of the blue, pulling the blonde from her thoughts, a series of quips came to mind and a number of comments best left unsaid. Cersei dismissed the blush quickly and shrugged. 

“Well I’m here aren’t I?” the little cub beamed as if Cersei had just told her Prince Charming was to marry Cinderella, and went to head back inside. “Sansa, wait, what’s your mother’s favourite movie?” she inquired obviously, the mini Cat giggled softly and shook her head.

“You won’t believe me if I told you.” She commented with the giddy smile she was now getting used to. The girl was one of those who would most probably return in half an hour with several paper cut out hearts and love badges, waving pink flags that had been painted I Heart CL&CS, and start a fan club.

“Try me,”

 

“Cat?” Cersei knocked timidly on the woman’s bedroom door to no reply, the lion gingerly entered the room to find her love curled on her bed tiredly. “Come on Cat, I need to show you something,” Cersei attempted to perk the redhead’s interest, to no avail. The younger woman sighed gently, “Oh well,” With that she snaked one arm around her back, the other under her legs and lifted her up to carry her. A surprised squeak left The Stark’s lips, and her head canted to the side to see the blonde smirking down at her. “You know you’re surprisingly light,” Cersei admitted, pushing the door open with her foot to carry her down the hallway. 

“You’re surprisingly strong!” The woman exclaimed, looking around to where she was being taken, and her heart literally melted. Her living room had been transformed into a little theatre. The sofa had been pushed close to the TV, lined with spare pillows and blankets, a small coffee table had been pulled closer and two empty glasses with a wine bottle perched on its polished surface, the Television screen was lit up and pressed on pause.

“Sansa helped,” Cersei declared as she placed down her little Stark lover on one end of the Sofa, plonking herself right beside her, despite the fact there was a whole piece of furniture to take up.

“What are we watching?” Catelyn asked timidly, not hesitating to place her head on the blonde’s chest, an arm loosely hanging around the front of her waist. Cersei smiled, her Cat was coming back to her. 

“You’ll see,” she smirked gently hitting play, on the remote. Catelyn instantly laughed as the title came up.

“The Lion king? How did you know?” but of course, if the golden haired woman had been working in association with her eldest daughter, of course she knew. Catelyn was a Disney fan, one who claimed that there was no age limit to Disney, and her children agreed whole-heartedly. Of course there was an abundance of other more general films that the Stark adored, but ‘The Lion King’ hit the jackpot. 

“Because, I’m God,” She answered teasingly, earning that treasured giggle from the wolf. Cersei hadn’t watched many Disney films, she had often just stuck her children in front of the screen and they would watch cartoons of Garfield or something, and as she pulled the woman closer, they watched the animated film together.

They had not gotten too far into the film before Cersei had and pulled Cat close into her side. ‘Long live the King’ She heard Cersei gasp as Scar retracted his claws from Mufassa and the Lion tumbled from the cliff into the raging stampede. Without realising it, the blonde had tightened her grip as she watched traumatized. It was a Disney movie, the lion had to be alive. 

_‘Dad? Dad c’mon. You have to get up… Dad! We gotta go home_!’ Simba pleaded to the stationary animal, nudging at his side persistently. Catelyn looked up to see Cersei’s emerald eyes brimming with tears, reaching up to kiss her chin. 

“It’s Okay,” Cat assured, and only then had she ever seen her blush like that. A flaming red consuming her cheeks, making her golden hair seem lighter against such a vibrant shade.

“I know,” she sniffled, gluing her eyes back to the screen. “I didn’t know… I haven’t watched this movie before,” Cat gasped. 

“What self-respecting Lannister hasn’t watched the Lion King?” the Stark wondered shocked, leaning forward to open the bottle of wine that had been set out, pouring two level glasses as Cersei herself had done on their first date, handing the much needed wine to the Lioness.

“Me,” Cersei muttered softly, leaning her head on Catelyn’s shoulder, contently. “would you call this a second date?” she whispered quietly as if not to disturb the movie. 

The Stark raised the brim of the glass to her lips a moment before answering in an equal volume. “No, I would call this a 'third' date miss Lannister, our second was ice cream, remember?” her eyes flashed towards the other woman and smirked to see her intently watching the lion king, as if she was a child again.

“No,” she answered pointedly, not tearing her gaze from the screen still. “That was our first fuck, that’s different,” Catelyn suppressed a blush, holding back her laughter. “This film is so fucking dark for Disney,” she commented once Cat had gone quiet, no doubt due to her previous comment. The auburn haired woman looked mildly offended and upset by this and glanced at the golden haired woman incredulously. 

“No, it isn’t,” she shook her head defensively, bringing her knees up to her chest and let her eyes drift back to her favourite film. 

“ _Yes it is_ ,” she intersected teasingly “The baboon hoists the kid in the air over a cliff like a piñata, the uncle kills the dad, so the kid runs away to make friends with a bunch of hippies, and this movie’s supposed to be for children?” Cersei retorted and although Catelyn felt the need to defend Walt Disney, she couldn't help but splutter at the others interpretation and analysis of the storyline. 

“It was a ritual! Like a sort of christening thing for royalty,” the wolf explained, before clamping her hand over The Lannister's mouth so they could both watch the movie in peace.

Not even ten seconds had passed once Cat had removed her hand from her mouth when the Lioness spoke again “Seven hells if ‘that’s’ how they do christenings I’m so glad I’m not religious.” And the Tully born woman guffawed.

 

“You never told me your son was on the hockey team,” The auburn haired woman announced a while after the film had ended, and both women laid side by side on the couch. Cersei moaned slightly before nodded half-heartedly.

“ I haven’t told you a lot of things, but yes, the Southern Predators," she spat the syllables, as if they would burn her tongue if she didn't get the word out quick enough. “I mean seriously. ‘Southern Predators'” she scoffed amusedly “What kind of a name is that? If I named a sport team it would be something decent at least,” she claimed with a grin. 

“You mean like 'The Wine’? Or perhaps ‘Fermented Grapes'?” she chuckled, earning a playful jab in the ribs in result. 

“No, Lion Rock,” Catelyn arched a brow, regarding the name choice of Cersei's fictional team, awaiting some explanation. “My birthplace was Casterly Rock, and it was more than beautiful. It would sort of resemble home. And also family. Lannister's have some heritage, connection and fondness of lions. It would be home, and family, and that's what's important to me,” The redhead seemed taken aback by just how much thought and feeling she had put into that. 

“You’ve obviously thought of that before now?” she commented softly , canting her head so that her nose brushed against Cersei's. The golden woman closed her eyes slightly, as if trying to capture a memory.

“I was captain of the volleyball team in Casterly High,” she replied meekly, opening one eye to observe the others reaction. Cat sat up, turning to look at her startled.

“That’s incredible,” she smiled warmly. 

“So...” the auburn haired woman started, unsure hat to follow with it.

“ _So._ ..” the Lannister echoed teasingly with her famous smirk.

“You said you haven’t told me a lot of things...” Cersei perked up resuming a normal sitting position as well a smirk printing on her coloured lips. 

“Alright, What do you want to know?” The Stark almost blushed as she crossed her legs, clasping her hands in her lap. She seemed almost ashamed or nervous to talk.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“Oh my Gods Catelyn!” the two of them laughed and the Tully shook her head. 

“No really what is it?” Cersei arched a brow, the smirk wouldn’t vanish from her lips and her gaze not deterring from Catelyn's.

“Red,” she left it at that, although she still had her preferences. Not the red of a traffic light, not the red of her lips currently. The red of Catelyn Starks hair, her favourite shade. “What's yours,” 

“Green. Blue. Greeny-blue,” the wolf replied hesitantly, the blonde nudged her gently. “Couldn’t you have a straightforward answer?” Cat shook her head and smiled. “When you were a child what did you want to be?” 

“an architect,” she reeled off without even the need to think. 

“A painter,” Cersei added and waited for Catelyn to pick another question, patiently.

“If you had a superpower what would it be?” she asked with an interest gleaming in her eyes. Cersei hated the question, it required thought, there was so much she could do, fix things destroy things... there was a lot of temptation. 

“I would be able to give the people I love all that they deserve,” She spoke quietly. It was true. She would give her children all that they could need. And Cat... she would give her Cat the world. “You?” 

“I would be able to capture moments. But have them forever, even after the end of time. Good moments... our moments” She and Cersei shared a smile, it was these types of bonds that Catelyn fawned over so dearly. “Hon, it’s your turn,” she reminded softly. 

“Do you love me?” Cat was taken aback, a moment she spent in silence before nodding, her pale blue eyes wide and radiant. “I do Cersei, I love you,” it was if a bell chimed in her head, the setting off of a firework display, hinting her realisation. It was the first time she had told Cersei Lannister she loved her. “and you?” the woman prompted hopefully. 

The Lioness as about to throw in a snide remark, up her count on sarcastic comments, but she understood that now was not the time to be smug. 

“Yes Catelyn, I love you too,”


	6. Arya's Chapter a.k.a Eggs and Legs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya's Hockey match is finally here.

Arya shivered. She would have loved to believe it was because the ice rink was cold, which there was no denying that fact, but she could not seem to convince herself, or anybody else for that matter, that it was the temperature that made her body shudder lightly, like a leaf trembling in the abusive breeze. She sat in the changing rooms away from the others, nervously picking at a loose thread from her kit. She had yet to put on her shoulder and elbow pads, the gloves, mouth guard and helmet, and whilst the other girls in her team where nearly ready, she tapped her fingers on her shin pads distractedly, a queasy feeling controlling her stomach.

The young wolf knew she didn’t need to be so worried, she had a good team with good players, who had good skill and good teamwork. Meera and Jeyne, they both played defence left and right, she could rely on them like she could her own hockey stick. Leaf played Goal keeper. Arya liked her, they got on well and although she never dared to ask her about her real name, she was inspired by her nickname that everyone knew her by, and wished sometimes she could have something like that. Shireen and Tyene were left winger and right winger, the youngest and the eldest. Shireen had joined only last year, and still had a lot to learn, but she was still a fast skater, Arya gave her credit for that. Tyene Sand was Oberyn’s daughter and taller than everyone else, including Jeyne, she was almost as good at ice Hockey as she was, and at trials it had come down to the two of them to earn the position as centre. With Osha's extra coaching and the backstreet practice, and the hockey version of kirby, Arya was almost indestructible.

  
But still the girls’ nerves took control, and she shivered inside her kit, chewing on her lower lip hoping to provide distraction as her knuckles drummed on the shin pads. Arya Stark wasn’t scared. She was never scared, but the idea of failing her team, her coach, her family, that was a disgrace she could never have weighing on her shoulders.

  
“Right girls,” a voice broke through her toughs and Arya glanced up to see Osha pacing the changing room, the rest of the girls sat with their bags by their feet, their kit all done and presentable, and for some reason, it made Arya proud that these guys supported her. At the championship two years ago she had missed the winning shot against the Iron Cracken, and she stormed from the rink before anyone could see her cry. Osha and the team had found her sobbing in the broken showers, clinging to her helmet as tears ran down her cheeks. They had brought her pepperoni pizza and all congregated in the showers, eating takeaways and laughing, as Arya’s spirits soared once again.

  
Arya’s memories had caused her to zone out from what her coach had been saying and now Osha knelt on the floor in front of her, the rest of the team had gone, most likely to get some last minute practice, and she was almost angry and upset that they hadn’t waited for her.

“Arya, are you okay?” the wild one asked concerned, taking the girls left arm and attaching the safety pads to her shoulder whilst the Stark sat stationary, keeping her gaze trained on the grate on the floor.

  
“Yeah I guess,” she replied dismissively, shrugging her shoulders, forgetting her coach was strapping on the cushioning.

  
“you know you're gonna be great, you know it, I know it, your family knows it, everyone in that stadium knows it Stark,” She replied nonchalantly, indicating for the other arm and the girl obeyed immediately, finally looking to Osha, acknowledging the comfort in her gentle eyes, and it made Arya just want to confess.

  
She slumped forward, forgetting again how awkward it made applying her kit. “But what if I’m not great? What if I fail again and... and everyone laughs at me? What if I’m a failure?” it annoyed her greatly how weak she sounded, like an imitation of an eleven-year-old girl.

Oshas expression had turned stern and stone.  
“You are not a failure, don’t you ever think that!” the woman scorned strapping on the last protector tightly, Arya didn't mind the stern attitude, she like it more than the other girls did, it prompted her critical thinking, telling her to snap out of it. “Sometimes, we all make mistakes, that affect us in various ways. If you make a mistake, we're here for you, and you’ll still be our star player...” Osha encouraged softly. “But you’re not going to make a mistake, you’re Arya flippin' Stark! You’re good! Gods, you’re great! And you’re going to show this stadium that you are a bloody good hockey player!” Arya smiled. Osha always knew what to do.

  
“Thanks Osha,” she grinned slightly, she wasn’t shaking any more, that was a positive sign. She fixed in her guard and pushed the helmet down over her head. The other smirked and nodded confidently, clapping her hand on her shoulder supportively.

  
“Break an egg Stark,” with that Osha stood and left the girl to pick up her Hockey stick and join her teammates for last practise and tactics.

  
“Osha, it's ‘break a leg'!” the young girl shouted after her, rising to her feet to pick up the last of her kit. The stick felt like power in her hands, as if she were holding a magic staff and strength flooded into her arm, her palm warming around the handle. She was Arya Stark and she was going to win.

Catelyn had asked for the day off to support her youngest daughter, and she has brought the family along. It took a lot of convincing to persuade Sansa to cancel her music recital that had clashed times with her sisters’ game, but now she wasn't complaining as she had been promised a new case for a violin.

Cat shifted in her set anxiously, she knew how much this meant to her youngest daughter, she had watched as Arya would sometimes chase her peas around her plate with her knife, as if it was a mini game of hockey.

  
The Stark mother sat three seats away from the aisle, Robb on her left followed by Jon, Sansa, Rickon and Bran whose chair was placed in the designated area, and a seat for Arya’s bag of spare clothes and water.

  
“Catelyn,” a surprised voice made the auburn haired woman jump and she turned in her seat to see Cersei with her other two children, Tommen and Myrcella. The lioness wore the same mask of slight shock, from which the blonde recovered immediately. She temporarily forgot how to speak, seeing the Lioness right there, astonished the Stark. She knew Joffrey played for the other team, but somehow neglected the idea that Cersei would show up. “What, no hi?” Ms Lannister asked in her usual smirk, sitting in the empty seat next to her, the two golden haired dealings sat beside her, filling the row.

  
“Hi,” she responded. She had gotten quite good at trying to control her blushing and now, her cheeks were merely rosy, instead of luminous red. Cersei took off her coat, revealing, her low cut shirt, her pendant almost resting between her bosoms, she caught Catelyn’s eye and smirked, bringing forth the blush she so longed to see. The Starks and Lannister’s had never sat together before. It didn’t feel wrong, not at all instead it was like they sat as one rather large, dysfunctional family.

  
“How is Arya?" The Lannister asked looking to her expectantly, realising that her Cat couldn’t tear her gaze from her daughter, but of course.

  
“She’s brave. The whole journey she was humming,” Catelyn commented quietly.

  
“And that’s problematic because…?”

  
“She only hums when she’s nervous, she was trying extremely hard not to let it show.

  
The Southern Predators entered the rink skating stylishly before surrounding their coach in a penguin sort of huddle. She couldn’t tell which one was Joffrey until she caught a glimpse of 'Baratheon' printed in Gold on the back of his red kit. Their team seemed alright. With Pyp and Olly, Ramsay, Myranda, Margaery and of course Joffrey.

  
Arya took a deep shaky breath, her gaze drifting to the floor but looking at nothing in particular. Her nerves washed over her, bathing her in anxiousness and slight devastation before grasping her stick tightly, passing her team who were waiting for her and led them onto the rink.

  
When the Winter whistlers made an appearance, there was a much more exaggerated applause, a perfect straight line of players circling the rink, led of course by her daughter. Her cheers must have given Cersei a headache, or at least temporary deafness in that ear.

  
The ice beneath her skates was slick and ordinary, and Arya felt slightly more confident, raising her head to take in the cheers. She couldn’t smile, not yet. Not until this game had been won, by her.

  
The whistle blew and the young wolf didn’t think as she knocked the puck to the side, avoiding the centre player and spotted the clearing where she swiftly passed to Sand. From then on, she watched like a hawk, skating stupendously, her brain clicked automatically and she hardly needed to think what she was doing when Shireen passed to her. Arya didn't pause as she shot for goal and succeeded, earning some obscene swearing from Joffrey, and a quick applause from the crowd.

  
Pyp and Myranda were trailing her now, she couldn't shake either of them, Ramsay was targeting Tyene and all of a sudden she was at a loss of what to do and that was when Margaery intercepted her, stealing her prize and shooting. Meera ducked in for defence, but she couldn’t get there in time, Leaf was quick undoubtedly, but not quick enough, the puck sailed past her, into the net. Arya could hear the other team roaring in success. They were on 1:1 with fifteen on the clock. The young wolf cussed silently, something she had learnt from Jon.

  
Myranda looked fierce with a snarl under her helmet, skating quickly, Arya dashed in to regain possession, but even before her stick had reached the player, the predator snarled again, like a dog, swinging back her stick and with as much force as she could muster hit the puck. Arya knew she was at too much of an awkward angle nobody could score that, so she rest assured for a mere moment. Until she heard the crowd gasp. She turned on the ice to see Jeyne on the ground, clutching her leg and whimpering. Medical rushed forward, Arya remembered to be Jorah and the whistlers surrounded their fallen team member. At such a high velocity, the impact of the puck was enough to do serious damage, she was lucky to be wearing her gear.  
Arya ducked under Jeyne’s arm, Jorah on the other side, and together they helped to carry the girl off the ice.

Her face was pale, her body shaking slightly. The other team was sniggering; she even saw Margaery high five Myranda. A fury rose in the little girl that refused to be contained. Asha Greyjoy stormed onto the game and called it fair to relieve Myranda from the match. There was some debate about this, but in the end, the girl had injured another, and sat begrudgingly on the sidelines for the rest of the game. She was sure she could see The Greyjoy woman mutter 'fucking asshole'.

 

The score was 3:3 Tyne and Arya having scored the other two goals for their team. Pyp and Margaery making up for the loss of their team member and the loss of one of Arya’s defenders made that a bit easier for the Southern Predators. She had two minutes on the clock, her worry started to dip back into her mind and Arya couldn’t help feel slightly nervous as she worked on her stance. The whistle blew somewhere and the girl sprang into action without the need to think. Passing to her team who worked well enough together. One minute. Shireen hit the puck in her direction.

  
Arya was off with it before she had fully realised that it had even hit the blade, successfully fending off a tackle from Olly. She vaguely wondered why they even let this kid on the team, he was about as good at hockey as Sansa was as good at going into a shopping centre without buying anything. She could see Tyene out the corner of her eye, trying to be open for pass, but the Bolton boy was blocking her every movement like a personal stubborn shadow, and any pass would be intercepted.

The girl looked around frantically for a little help, dribbling the puck as she got ever closer to the goal on an angle. She would have to do a pointer turn, to avoid possible attack from Pyp, the eldest on the team, but it would be a much harder angle to score a goal. She was hoping for a third option but her team players were nowhere to be seen, she was approaching quickly and she had to make up her mind. Dead ahead, risk losing possession of the puck, or swerve and pray she could manage such a hard route. She could feel the sweat drip from her brow, eyes frantically searching for a loophole. Pyp seemed confident, his face set under the helmet as he prepared to meet her on. Arya had no idea if he was good or not, and it was impossible to tell if she could regain possession of it.

  
Her mind was spinning, as Osha’s words echoed in her mind “Sometimes, we all make mistakes, that affect us in various ways. If you make a mistake, we're here for you, and you’ll still be our star player.” She grits her teeth around the mouth guard, she would have closed her eyes to pray if she wasn’t busy concentrating, and swerved.

The action seemed to surprise Pyp and the boy delayed a few precious seconds before chasing her.

  
“I am Arya Stark, And I will win,” she mumbled, the words were Clear in her head, even if they were a jumble of moans out loud. Joffrey was glaring, adjusting his stance to prepare. “I am Arya Stark, And I will win,” The goal was zooming closer at an unachievable angle, the other boy hot on her heels. “I am Arya Stark, I am Arya Stark and I—“ the world span out of focus, and the sudden feel of the cold ice and the bang of her helmet on hard surface surprised her.

A loud gasp of shock arose from the audience in disbelief and horror. Her gloved fingers caressed the ice momentarily. She had fallen... She was Arya Stark and she had fallen. Her helmet was on a slant as she raised her head from the ground, Tyene and Meera were by her side, in an attempt of aid. Tears stung her eyes, but she looked up just in time to see Joffrey's smirking grin turn to absolutely horror as the puck slid past him and into the net.

  
The bell rang, flashing 0 seconds remaining.

  
The whole crowd cheered, she could hear her mother and Robb above them all, and as her players helped her up, she took off her helmet and wrapped both arms around her friends’ necks, attempting to spot her family. And there they were, on their feet yelling and clapping for her. Even Ms Lannister was standing, clapping at her success, Arya couldn’t help but decide that she wasn't 'that' bad after all. Soon the whole stadium was in applause and Arya blushed. Osha came onto the rink with Jorah, but neither could get to Arya as her team surround her, hugging and cheering her in Triumph. The Stark couldn't even decipher what they were saying, each and every one was speaking in exhilaration at once, and instead of asking them to repeat what had been said, she revelled in the moment with a beam that could light up the world.

“Arya!” it was her mother, and before the second was out they were both hugging tightly, Arya’s arms tightly wrapped around her waist as Catelyn held her close before handing her the bag and the water which the girl accepted eagerly. “You were amazing Arya!” she spoke candidly, chuckling gently as she doesn't the water in desperate gulps.

  
“You got yourself a mighty fine daughter, Stark,” The Greyjoy coach approached and swung her arm across Arya's shoulders approvingly, the young wolf could have spat her water, instead she choked slightly until tears brimmed in her eyes. The girl dipped her head to hopefully mask the blush that had rendered her cheeks a vibrant pink.

  
Cat smiled and nodded in return. “I know, thank you, miss...” she was sure Arya had mentioned the name several times before, but it hadn’t registered in her mind.

  
“Ah, Greyjoy. Asha Greyjoy,” she extended a strong hand, her other arm still around the young wolf who's blush had only grown darker. Catelyn shook her hand and smiled.

  
“Pleasure, Asha,”

  
“Well, I guess I better go yell at those fuckers,” The coach explained, her crude language making Arya giggle and the auburn haired woman’s brows raise in slight surprise. “See you around kid,” she ruffled Arya's hair, before striding away powerfully to the team that sat hunched over in the stalls, like sad pups with their tails beneath their legs.

  
“What an interesting woman,” The Stark expressed softly as Osha came bounding up, out of breath.

  
“Jeyne will be okay, to let you know. We’re celebrating, going out for pizza again, is the champion okay to join us?” she glanced up at Catelyn, already predicting the answer, grinning as she received a casual nod in response. Arya hugged her mother tightly again.

“Cheers Mum, You’re the best,” she lingered there a lot longer than either had anticipated, embracing each other with arming smiles, before Arya pulled away and just grinned, the success and achievements sinking in.

  
“Shake an egg Arya we're waiting for you!” Osha called out and Arya hurried to catch up with her.

  
“Osha, seriously, it's a leg,”

 

 

Catelyn returned to her seat, to find the row was empty besides miss Lannister.

  
“Your children and mine went for ice cream. They told me to inform you,” she smirked, crossing one leg over the other as Cat sat back down in her chair.

  
“Oh are they now?” Cat raised a brow, wondering when her children had started making decisions for themselves without running it through with her first.

  
“It appears so, we could go for ice cream ' _again_ ', If you’d like Ms Stark,” the blonde smirked wickedly, causing the other woman to nudge her in return. Although the wolf couldn’t suppress a shudder at the way her name sounded off the Lannister’s lips, as if she were tasting each syllable with fine delicacy, savouring the way her name tasted on her tongue.

  
“Not today,” Cat whispered leaning her head on Cersei’s shoulder contently. “Just hold my hand,” the golden haired woman obliged with a common smirk, entwining their fingers as she kissed the auburn hair she so loved.

  
By now they were probably the only ones left in the stadium, staring at nothing for a moment, smiling warmly.

  
But a pair of eyes watched them intently, a pair of stormy grey eyes that seemingly swam with fury, hurt and anguish. His brows furrowed as he watched Cat rest her head on the Lannister woman’s shoulder, and his features contorted to a form of resentment and seething. The man turned quickly to leave, pacing down the hall to the exit, a powerful stride as his lips pulled thinly, the stormy expression on his face never departing nor the torture from his eyes. As he stood on the steps he scanned the area, even more annoyed when he saw Cats children laughing and giggling with the two Lannister brats. When he stepped into the sun his mockingbird pin flashed, reflecting the beams brightly.

 

 

 

 

  
  


 


	7. 'C' Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first section of this chapter is a flashback, to avoid confusion I have clearly indicated the separation between past and present. please, let me know if you like this fic x

* * *

* * *

_Hoster Tully was the most important man in Riverrun Square. Everybody knew him and his family, two daughters and a son. His eldest was currently eleven and much more mature and polite than what was expected of her. The middle child was eight, and she was crazy, she had too much energy that nobody knew what to do with. The little boy was three, and had successfully counted to ten on his fingers just last week. The man couldn’t leave his house without at least one person trying to take his picture, and it was for this reason that he stayed indoor quite a lot of the time, which his children didn’t mind at all. He was quite rich and for that reason, he needed no work, and more often than not, spent those free hours with his family. Everyone in that area knew that family, duty and honour was what meant the most to the man, and in that order. It was his children and his brother that had his heart. It was his Duty to look after them, his children would want for nothing, and their uncle lived with them in the biggest house in the town. As for his honour, it was his honour that compelled him to foster the little boy. Petyr’s father was a friend of his and they had often asked favours of each other and always carried them out, a Tully’s honour._

_Cat sat at the dining room table with a heavy volume open in front of her, swinging her legs as her toes brushed against the carpet. Usually, she would study in the garden, either laying on her stomach in the grass, or on the swing depending if the ground was laden with dew, but today the sky was cast in thick, miserable, grey clouds and the rain drummed off the windowsill, creating puddles on the path down the garden. She was home-schooled, as were her siblings, and her father had hired a nanny to teach them what they needed to know to prepare each of them for the big world. Speaking of which, the Nanny was currently trying to get the toddler Edmure to figure out the alphabet. Her little brother seemed adamant that M came after J. As for Lysa, when she wasn’t jumping on the furniture she was stealing food from the drawers, stashing the sweet wrappers in her pockets, knowing that father had found them when she hid the rubbish behind the cushions. The eldest daughter turned her attention back to the book, her blue orbs scanning over the lengthy paragraphs explaining the History of the War of the Ninepenny Kings or also known as the Fifth Blackfyre Rebellion. Catelyn enjoyed reading about the wars more than the other things the Nanny had her read. Lysa would just sit and look at the pictures, pointing at the paintings of men with twisted faces of horror on the battlefield, and say which ones were Uncle Blackfish. However now, her sister was skipping in circles around the table, and Cat tried to drown herself in the words of the textbook, but the littler Tully was proving to be far too distracting._

_“Lys! What are you doing? I’m trying to read, you should be too, it’s not home-school if you’re running around doing nothing!” Cat protested, watching the girl hopping around the dining room. Several of the lamps had been turned on, even though it was only midday the dull darkness of outside was creeping indoors slowly._

_Lysa pulled a face, sticking out her tongue and dancing around the table still, like she was part of some ancient foreign cult._

_“‘I’m trying to read’” the younger sister imitated rudely, continuing in circles, that made Catelyn start to feel dizzy. “and I’m Not doing Nothing! I’m waiting for Papa to come home with the boy!” and with that she checked through the rain spotted window, before resuming her skipping in slight disappointment._

_The boy. Hoster had informed his children only two days prior that they would be fostering a child. Edmure was ecstatic, that he didn’t have to be the only boy anymore, and Lysa was drop-dead excited, having claimed her siblings bored her. Only Catelyn didn’t appear to be overly looking forward to the kid’s arrival. It would be refreshing she supposed. Perhaps he was a level-headed boy, smart with a knack for learning, and maybe he was as mature as her and not quite like the buffoon her sister was._

_“Can’t you just be sensible about it? you don’t want him to think you’re a loony!” Cat stated, shaking her head as Lysa covered her ears with her hands so as not to hear her sister speaking, covering her words with a chorus of ‘La’s”._

_Seven Gods, sometimes Catelyn hated her sister._

_Both girls stopped what they were doing as they heard the car horn honk. Lysa raced to the window, letting out a squeal of excitement before rushing to the door. The older Tully girl chewed on her lower lip, closing her book and putting it back in its slot on the correct shelf. “Duty and Honour Catelyn,” she reminded herself briefly before following Lysa. A wild Ed appeared, bouncing down the hall in a merry sprint as fast as his chubby little legs allowed… which wasn’t that fast, and he clung to Cat’s leg until she picked him up. The girl groaned exaggeratedly at his weight as she rest the boy on her hip._

_“You’re getting heavy now Ed!” she exclaimed, ruffling the patch of auburn hair on her brothers’ head. He beamed delightedly, clapping his hands together proudly._

_“I count to Z!” Edmure boasted happily, to prove it he started the alphabet, getting to J then stating M, S, R, U Z, and looked up to his sister expectantly. Cat only laughed and kissed his head softly._

_The door opened and The door opened and Her uncle, Brynden Tully came strolling through, holding the door open. His coat was almost drenched due to the short walk from the car to the house. Hoster and the boy followed, her father was wetter than his brother, as his coat had been wrapped around the boy that he had guided in front of him._

_The boy was small, seemingly weak, he looked about ten. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead, contrasting to the chalk white complexion. Cat thought about the Vampire stories in some of her literature books, pale skin dark hair, fangs. She had yet to find out if the boy was in possession of pointy teeth. He had pale, grey, sharp eyes, as if he could take in the scene in a mere glance and remember practically everything, what was were and who was present. Brynden Blackfish closed the door behind the two, shutting out the rainstorm._

_“Everyone, this is Petyr,” Hoster smiled, encouraging the shivering cold boy to move closer. “Petyr this is my daughter Lysa,” Cat’s little sister waved eagerly with a smile, the dark haired boy responded with the ghost of a grin tugging at his lips momentarily, a nervous flash of a smile, raising a few fingers on his right hand in a greeting gesture, but still keeping Hoster’s coat tight around him at the same time, as he didn’t seem to have his own. Cat was pleased to note that the boy didn’t have a set of long, pointy, blood-cucking fangs either. “My son Edmure”_

_“Hi boy!” Ed squeaked from Cat’s arms, appearing to be just as enthusiastic as Lysa about the arrival._

_“Hi,” Petyr spoke quietly, an anxious whisper but still with that slight smile. Edmure looked up to his eldest sister with the slightest of frowns “Boy wet,” he commented obviously._

_“And this is my Eldest daughter, Catelyn,” she nodded her head respectfully with a welcome smile. Duty._

_“How do you do Petyr?” The eldest daughter wanted the new boy to feel welcomed after all, but it almost unnerved her, the way he was staring at her… it made her uncomfortable._

* * *

__

* * *

 

The rain made his dark hair heavier, and the droplets of water dropped from his fringe, trickling down his forehead, down his face. It had gotten rather dark outside, due to the fact it was later on in the year, plus the fact the angry storm clouds roamed the sky in herds. The rain was falling heavy, dribbling down his neck and soaking his collar as well, the cold sensation leaving him numb, and that was how he liked it. Numb, almost as if the pain and resentment washed away with the rain, pooling all in a puddle at his feet. But Petyr’s pain and resentment didn’t vanish, no matter how numb the ice cold precipitation left him. His hands resided in his pockets as he stood stationary across the street, in the shadows.

The light shining from inside Catelyn Starks house made it easier to see through the windows, the curtains had not yet been drawn, leaving the perfect opportunity for Petyr Baelish to watch, as he been doing several times now. He hadn't thought much about it when he followed her home one night many months ago, but he had become addicted to watching the woman he could never have. He had been content with just standing in the shadows, until that fateful night a few weeks ago. When Cersei Lannister walked the Tully up to her porch, and she kissed her, on the lips.

He knew what those lips felt like. He had kissed her before, when they were both just young, and he was irrevocably in love with the girl, since he first saw her. But that had been fake, almost a game to see what it was like, a kiss from another, and he could tell that Catelyn, wasn’t overly keen, but to him… it had been as if he had just won a lottery, or had kissed an angel, but again, to him… he had.

Though they had never kissed like that, just the memory of watching her fingers tangle in blonde Lannister hair, soft delicate lips pressed to a lion’s it made his eyes burn and his soul burn also, but with rage.

 

He hadn't thought much about it when he followed her home one night many months ago, but he had become addicted to watching the woman he could never have. He had been content with just standing in the shadows, until that fateful night a few weeks ago. When Cersei Lannister walked the Tully up to her porch, and she kissed her, on the lips.

Currently, he watched as Catelyn laughed delightedly, whilst Robb had Arya on his shoulders, a trophy grasped in her left hand and a slice of pizza in the right. The other daughter was dancing with Rickon on her toes, to music he did not hear. She looked like her mother, with the auburn hair and the other Tully features, the blue eyes… He continued to watch, Bran rolling in, in his chair and Arya was let down so she could hug her brother. The black haired bastard, Snow was now battling Robb in a serious tourney of rock-paper-scissors, and Snow roared with laughter, lifting the last slice of pizza out of the box. His sullen eyes drifted back to Cat.

She was still beautiful. Since the moment he first set eyes on her as a girl he had known she was beautiful. A gift from the gods, he had named her, for she was listed under every definition of perfect and that hadn’t changed.

 

 Sansa had gotten to fetch another bottle of Pepsi from the fridge in the kitchen, so Rickon bounded ono her lap now that his dance partner had left him. Catelyn laughed warmly, “You’re getting heavy now Rickon,” she beamed brightly, pressing a kiss to his curly, auburn hair. The boy seemed delighted about the fact and wrapped his arms around her neck.

Catelyn praised her daughter’s triumph, and after the fifth retelling of the whole match, Arya beamed, as if she was realising for the first time, just how much she adored her family, and she immediately flung herself onto the couch beside her mother. Her arms wrapped tightly around her waist as she nuzzled into her, Rickon still on their mother’s lap. Bran wheeled over and Catelyn shifted so that she was sitting on the very edge of the couch, so that she could embrace her son, her other two children still clinging onto her. Robb laughed, resting on the arm or the furniture, his own arms enveloped Catelyn and Bran, Jon shoved the remaining pizza into his mouth and joined in the hug. Sansa wandered back in dreamily, can in hand. She couldn’t help but smile at the scene.

“Come on Sansa, plenty of room for you too,” Cat ensured and without another thought her eldest daughter ran into the embrace, coaxing a round of laughter from the family.

“Is there room for me too?” Cersei asked quietly, hovering in the doorway. The seven of them looked up at the golden haired lioness. Bran wheeled out of the huddle and towards the door, his glasses slightly askew from being bombarded by his siblings.

“Of course there is, I wouldn’t mind you being part of this family,” he held out his hand for the Lannister, who accepted tentatively, and as he struggled to wheel back to the family with one hand doing all the work, he brought the blonde with him and into the group.

“Nor would I,” Jon and Arya spoke in sync, staring up at the woman with broad smiles.

“Me neither,” Concluded Sansa in a giddy tone, almost bouncing where she sat.

“family,” Rickon announced approvingly, glancing at Robb and tugging on his hand.

Robb responded with a smile, meeting the lioness face to face. “You make our mum happy, you know… to family,” The oldest son grinned and raised his redbull can in the air as a toast.

 

“And what about you?” Cersei asked quietly, all eyes turned to Catelyn, who had spent the last few minutes smiling from ear to ear.

“That one night was enough for me, for you to be a part of this family,” a loud cheer went up from the children, loud enough for Petyr to hear it from the outside. He glared viciously at the scene, laughing and hugging, and drinks raising in the air before drawing up his hood, low over his eyes and prowling away, but not before he saw Cersei lean down and press her lips gently to Catelyn’s temple.

 

  


The following morning was a glorious one, it was quite odd nearing for it was December, the final month of the year and it was gratifyingly warm, the sun was shining, the wind was a mere pleasant breeze, and the day in itself was content and beautiful. The air was slightly moist and humid, from all of last night’s raining.

 

Renly sat in the Tyrell Café with a milkshake firm in his grasp, opposite Osha, who's black coffee was steaming up her glasses. This was the man’s favourite place to go really, the owner of the store, Olenna was a … friendly old woman, who played off his banter with a round of her own. But the main attraction was her grandson. The waiter, Loras. Whenever Renly needed to cool down, he would go there and steal some winks from the Tyrell boy, and maybe some drinks too.

The Baratheon had the aura of sass just lingering around him, sunglasses perched on his curly hair, and a scarf wrapped around his neck. The smile he wore was laced with pure gayness.

 

"I think that everything beginning with C goes together.” He stated out of the blue, his eyes deep and thoughtful, as if he had been pondering the prospect of the third letter of the alphabet all morning. “Coffee and Cream." He offered with an enthusiastic grin before listing off a round of examples " Chocolate. Crisps." Osha pretended to gag at that one. Chocolate and crisps? What world did he live in? On second thoughts, she didn’t particularly want to know.

"Cereal. Cornflakes."

"Renly would you shut the hell up? Cornflakes is a cereal!" Osha barked, having enough of his wondering comments.

"Christmas. cracker." Renly decided fondly, smiling at his newly found pair of C words. Osha rolled her eyes, she was right ready to bash him over the head with a toaster. "Here's a C word for your Ren. Cunt!" She had meant it offensively, but regrettably, he found almost everything to be funny.

"I think that goes with Craster... Or Clegane, perhaps a cock if you’re straight. Cook and clean, Cup and cake." Osha looked right ready to strangle him there and then.

“Renly I swear to the gods!”

"Cersei and Catelyn!" He concluded finally, with a knowing smirk on his lips, as if that was what he was planning on revealing this whole time, but just found a more extremely annoying way of doing so.

“So that’s what this is about?”

Renly sat back pleased and proud, as if he had successfully saved the whole human race by pairing the two together. “I can’t help it Osha! They’re my best work yet! Cersei hasn’t threatened me in three whole weeks! That surely counts for something. And Catelyn, she seems much more relaxed”

The hockey coach sipped at her coffee, raising her brows in return. “Speak of the devil,”

Catelyn strode right past the two of them and to the counter, in need of a reviving coffee before she had to endure a meeting at work.

Renly whistled attentively and the wolf turned stunned, before a warm smile occupied her lips. “Renly, Osha, I didn’t see you,”

“We’re not that hard to miss, love,” the Baratheon grinned giddily. “We were just talking about you,” this caught her by surprise and she almost dropped her coffee. The delighted man laughed at her look of bewilderment. “Nothing to worry of dear, just you and Cersei,” that didn’t seem to make it any better, cat shook away the shock.

“Renly, what?” she stood by their table, and Osha scooted along the plush seats for her friend to sit also, but she merely shook her head “It’s alright, I have to be heading for work,”

“So, Cat, how is everything," Renly leant forward expecting to hear a full encounter, “I keep texting the Drama Queen but she isn’t always so fond of sharing,”

“Things are good,” she replied dismissively, checking her watch, hoping Renly would catch the hint, but of course, he was Renly Baratheon, so he didn’t.

“Good? I set you up with a woman and four weeks later you are still together and all I get is ‘good’?” Osha had to hit him with a spoon to quieten him, people were starting to stare.

“What, Renly means, hon, is how is she?” The wild woman corrected gently

"She’s beautiful," The Stark answered with a soft smile.

“Well you’re beautiful too, Cat,” Osha answered

“I’m sorry, I really must be going, I have a meeting to attend,” she smiled apologetically and stole away with coffee in hand.

Renly was tuttering shaking his head in slight disappointment. “What?” Osha demanded, narrowing her eyes at the other.

“ ‘You’re beautiful too, Cat,’ She isn’t Jealous, love, she’s gay!”

  


 

 Catelyn arrived just in time. Her auburn hair had been left down as Cersei had suggested, as the mark hadn’t fully faded yet, and she wasn’t too keen to be brandishing it to all of her colleagues. She slunk into her seat beside Ygritte, she was the last there, all her co-worker surrounded the large table, as Alliser Thorne began to speak. Only ten minutes into his speech, her phone vibrated in her jacket pocket, sending a shock through her nerves. But Cat ignored the impulse and continued to listen. Only two minutes after that it buzzed again, and Catelyn dared to check who was texting her in the middle of a meeting. The phone screen illuminated under the table, and Catelyn blushed slightly, confirming that Cersei Lannister’s texts were swarming her inbox.

 

It vibrated in her hand again and she didn’t hesitate to read the thread.

‘ _Why did you have to go to work today? You and I could’ve had the day to ourselves_ ,’ she scanned the next message.

‘ _I know you’d like that. We could get ice-cream again… or eat out_ ,’ the latest message glaring at her from under the table.

 _‘I can’t help but thinking Cat, it’s been so long since I’ve had my finger delving into you, I just want you again_ ’ A sudden heat raged in her cheeks alongside the fierce heat that spread in between her legs, upon reading the text, and as soon as she had, another popped up in its place.

‘ _I want you moaning and breathless, under me, just like you were_ ,’ Catelyn read, the contagious want between her thighs expanding and growing ever stronger. She crossed her legs hoping to quench some of the desire that had implanted itself in her core, and she shuddered slightly, before another text illuminated her screen.

‘ _I admit, watching you ride down on my thrusting fingers was a real sight to behold, I picture it every day, every night, and in a public restroom as well… naughty Cat_ ,’

She was quickly losing her control, knowing she ought to turn off her phone, especially now, but her blue eyes locked upon the screen.

‘ _That’s what I picture each night when I need some self-satisfaction, your whimpering moans, your lips in mine, the way you screamed my name when you came for me_ ,’ She could feel the dampness between her thighs, and the burning of her cheeks. The stark took a sip of fresh cold water in hopes to cool down a bit, before gathering the courage to reply.

‘Cersei, you must stop, I’m in a meeting… I’m blushing,’ a few delicate seconds past when her phone vibrated in her fingers.

‘ _Oh, how cute. Blushing or just wet and wanting? I know about your meeting, but now I’d much prefer to picture your lovely legs parted on my shoulders, as I take you right there on that table your sat at now_.’ Cat couldn’t reply. She could not look at the scene now, the same way, not without picturing herself on that table with Cersei making quick work of her.

‘ _How I would love to see you writhing beneath me, begging me as I fuck you_.’ Catelyn shuddered, as she tucked her phone back into her pocket, still dwelling with the vigorous need fuelling her desire.

 

“Cat, y'okay? ye look…” Ygritte decided not to finish the sentence. Her colleague seemed to look exhilarated yet sick at the same time.

“I think I need to go home,” she whispered in reply as she felt her phone notify her of an incoming text.

 

Alliser Thorne agreed that she did not seem or look like herself, allowing her to be dismissed from the meeting… not that she had listened to a word he said anyway. And Catelyn found it a challenge to walk to her own car. Her pace too quick, awkward and unsteady, that alongside the fact she was surely wet and swollen, it wasn’t an easy task to look smooth.

And It was all Cersei Lannister’s fault.


End file.
